


What I want (might be something you’d like)

by Arkiem



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Baby!Tony, Bathing, Carrying, Cuddling, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Feeding, Fussy Littles, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Little Headspace, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Sibling Rivalry, Toddler!Clint, bottles, daddy!Phil, non-sexual infantilism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 70,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkiem/pseuds/Arkiem
Summary: Steve found out that Phil and Clint are into Age Play. There's nothing wrong about it, but the more time he spends with little Clint, the more he wants Tony to be little too. The heart of the issue is, Steve's not sure if Tony would like the idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I was just re-reading some of the NSAP stories I love, and I got this idea. In almost all the stories I've read, Tony has always been little before he gets someone to take care of him. 
> 
> So, what if he didn't know anything about Age play, and someone else was the one who encourage him to be little? 
> 
> Anyway, so this is basically what this story is going to be about, Steve trying to get Tony to like NSAP, and Tony having maybe a bit of a hard time about it. It's worth mentioning that, even if Tony is going to struggle with the idea at the beginning, and even is Steve might push him beyond his boundaries sometimes, this is going to be all consensual, and their (Steve/Tony's as well as Phil/Clint's) relationships are going to be completely separated from their age play.
> 
> I'm going to keep the chapters short, so it doesn't take me long to update.
> 
> If you spot any mistakes, let me know :)

If there was ever a complaint about all this, Steve could definitely blame it on Tony. Because if Tony had agreed to spar with him when he asked, instead of staying in his workshop working on some upgrades he could have easily left for later, Steve would have never gone to Clint’s floor, looking for somebody to train with. 

And, if by any chance that was not enough to absolve himself from any blame, Steve could also argue that if Tony hadn’t given him full access to the Tower, he would have never stepped into Clint’s living room without knocking or giving him a heads up. 

Yes, that sounded very unlike Steve, since he was the only one in the Tower who usually tried to respect everyone in all possible ways – privacy included – but Clint was the one whom Steve usually hung out with when he didn’t’ feel like being alone and Tony refused to leave the workshop – something that happened too frequently to Steve’s liking – and Steve had gotten used to just making himself at home in Clint’s floor without any invitation. 

Besides, what was the worst thing that could happened? That Steve ran into Clint and Phil while they were making out on the couch? That wasn’t a big deal, especially since both of them had caught him and Tony doing the same thing several times. _Call it even_ , Clint would certainly say if that ever happened. 

But, of all the possible scenarios Steve could have encountered when going into Clint’s living room, the one that appeared in front of his eyes was one he would have never imagined. 

 

“Be quiet,” Phil asked, his index finger on his mouth gesturing silence. Though Steve couldn’t really think of anything to say to break the silence. He just stood there, next to the doorframe, trying to make sense of what he was watching. “He had a hard time trying to fall asleep,” he commented whispering, his hand stroking Clint’s hair gently. 

Phil seemed completely oblivious of the fact that Steve’s confused expression wasn’t caused by Phil not wanting him to make any noise, but by Clint himself. Or rather, by what Clint was wearing. A t-shirt and what was undoubtedly a diaper. Why on earth was Clint wearing a diaper?

Getting the feeling he wasn’t supposed to be there, Steve thought about turning around and leaving. But the stupefaction apparently messed up his brain and made it send wrong messages to his body, because instead of leaving, Steve went deep into the living room, standing a few inches in front of them. 

“Sorry if you came to hang out with him, but I’d rather you postpone whatever it was what you’d planned to do,” Phil asked, still murmuring. Now that Steve was closer to them, he could see Clint was sucking his thumb, which only confused him more. What exactly was happening here? “The last mission was a hard one, and he was having nightmares all night,” he sighed. “In short, he was having a very bad day. So, I want him to sleep as much as possible,” he finished saying, hushing Clint tenderly when the latter twitched in his sleep. “Is there something wrong?” Phil questioned, looking up at Steve. He had just stayed there, staring at them without doing or saying anything. 

“What are you doing?” Steve managed to enunciate. 

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow to emphasize his confusion. 

“Why’s he wearing _that_?” Steve wanted to know, pointing at the white diaper. 

“Well, he was feeling littler than normal, so I didn’t want him to have an accident and pull-ups can’t hold as much as diapers do.” Phil answered, although his explanation only managed to baffled Steve more. 

“Littler? Accident? I’m sorry, but I’m not really following you,” Steve confessed. 

Phil’s eyebrows drew together in bewilderment. “You mean you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know what?” 

“About the age play,” Phil said, and Steve couldn’t help feeling a bit annoyed. The more Phil said, the less he understood. He shook his head. “Man, I thought you knew, I mean, you two spending a lot of time together and everything. I thought he had mentioned it or something,” he babbled, clearly mortified, “And even if he hadn’t commented you anything, he isn’t precisely discreet about it, you know, sometimes his behavior goes further than just being a man child, I thought you had figured it out by now or at least I thought you had an idea of it. I mean, you’re here, he knows you come and go as you like, he would’ve asked JARVIS not to let anyone in whenever he was little if you hadn’t already known and he didn’t want you to find out,” he declared, speaking tensely and faster than usual. 

“Phil, I have no idea of what you’re talking about or what all this is about,” Steve assured, taking a few steps towards the armchair and sitting down on it. Suddenly, standing up there without doing anything seemed just off. 

“Jeez, I don’t think he’ll be mad because you found out, but I think he would’ve preferred to tell you himself in that case. So, perhaps you might want to say nothing about it?” Phil proposed.

“I can’t say anything about something I don’t even know what is,” Steve replied, “Really Phil, I’m completely lost here.”

“OK, sorry. I guess I’m not making any sense here,” Phil apologized, taking some seconds to calm down. He took the closest cushion and placed it carefully on the ear Clint didn’t have pressed to his thigh. 

And then, Phil explained him everything. How sometimes Clint had a really hard time dealing with, well, life. A superhero life. How they had tried an endless number of things to help him cope with stress, and how nothing had worked. How they had come across with a website which talked about age play and how they had decided to give it a try. How odd it had been at the beginning, and how everything had fit in eventually. How it had helped Clint, and how both of them came to really enjoy it. 

Steve promised not to say anything to anyone before leaving the room, a bit taken aback. Though his astonishment hadn’t been caused by all what Phil had said, but by his own brain. Because that scene he had witnessed, Clint curled up into a small ball, wearing a diaper and sucking his thumb, while resting his head on Phil’s thighs, was well imprinted in his mind. 

But, when he visualized the scene, instead of Clint’s and Phil’s faces, Steve could clearly see his and Tony’s.


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually, Clint found out that Steve had discovered about the age play thing. 

"Phil made me promise not to tell you anything about it," Steve informed when Clint brought the topic up. 

"Yeah, I know. But, you know, even if it's a bit of a cliché, we try not to keep any secrets between us, so he ended up telling me what had happened," Clint commented as he took a can of soda from the fridge. Dr. Pepper, Steve was sure that belonged to Natasha. There was surely going to be an argument later.

"So, how do you feel about me knowing?" Steve asked, truly wanting to know the answer. If Clint wanted him to pretend he knew nothing, that would be fine by him. He didn't want to make Clint uncomfortable in any way. 

Clint took a sip of soda, thoughtful expression. “I’m not sure, I guess I never really thought about the possibility of someone else besides Phil knowing about this.”

“I’ll never comment anything about it,” Steve promised, meaning it. 

“It’s not that, it’s just–,” Clint trailed off, taking some seconds to put his thoughts in order. “Just don’t tell anybody. That’s it. I really don’t mind you knowing, but I guess I’d feel kind of weird if somebody else knows. I mean, it’s not like I’m planning on being little in front of anybody besides Phil, so I think it wouldn’t make much of a difference, but even so…” he stated, babbling a bit. 

“That’s good to know,” Steve observed, “otherwise, I’d be always checking if you need a diaper change from now on,” he joked, and he moved a bit to the side to avoid being splashed, as Clint spat out the soda he had in his mouth. 

“I don’t wear diapers!” Clint assured, his face tomato red. Steve raised an eyebrow. “OK, just that time, but it was Phil’s stupid idea! I don’t need diapers! I am a big boy and I am well potty-trained!” he insisted, slamming his hands on the table. It took him just a second to realize how childish he had sounded, and his face turned even redder. 

Steve chuckled slightly as he got up from the table. “Let’s train or something,” he suggested, not wanting to discuss the matter any longer so Clint didn’t feel uncomfortable or offended in no way. 

If this was something Clint wanted to keep between him and Phil, Steve had no problem with that. The less involved he was, the blurrier that mental picture with his and Tony’s faces would turn.

\- - - -

The worst thing you can do to your friends is telling them your secrets, because that automatically involves them even if any of the parties wants to. Steve remembered reading or hearing that somewhere, and he felt that phrase described best what had happened. Without the bad connotation, of course.

Clint might have said that the whole age play thing was something between him and Phil, and there was no doubt he had meant that, because neither he nor Phil – nor Steve – had brought up the topic again. Good, Steve did not want any other metal picture to stick in his mind and keep company with the one he was already having problems to get rid of. But now that Steve had found out about it, he had a hunch that the this-is-just-between-us thing wasn’t going to last long. 

His hunches usually turned out to be true. 

Just a couple of weeks later, Phil called him in the dead of the night to ask him to go and check on Clint. Apparently, Phil had JARVIS inform him whenever Clint wasn’t doing OK so he could always go and help him deal with whatever Clint was struggling with. Though that night Phil had been very far away from New York and he soonest he could arrive to the Tower was until next morning. He didn’t want Clint to be all alone until then, not when he was feeling little.

Hesitating, Steve agreed and made his way to Clint’s floor, anxiety taking over him as he didn’t know exactly what to expect or how to behave. In broad outline, Phil had explained him what this age play situation was like, but he hadn’t really gone into details, and Steve hadn’t asked anything either. Would Clint be himself with the only difference that he’d be wearing a childish attire? Or would he be just as a child was? Would he remember everything related to his adult self or would Steve have to pretend they didn’t know each other and treat him like any adult would treat a child? 

Those and many other questions flooded Steve’s head as he walked throughout the living room, intentionally slower. His hand rested over the doorknob for several seconds before he brought himself to turn it, and all nervousness, discomfort and insecurity vanished as soon as he stepped into Clint’s bedroom and saw him. 

Despite the fact that Steve knew perfectly well Clint was an adult in the full sense of the word, seeing him there, sitting cross-legged on the bed holding very tightly to his chest what seemed to be a dragon stuffed animal while he tried so hard to hold his tears back, Steve’s heart melted immediately and his brain failed to see Clint as nothing but a small frightened kid. 

Clint tensed up when Steve moved closer to the bed, but his distress had been such that he practically jumped on him when Steve sat down on the bed, clutching his t-shirt and pressing his face against his chest. 

Anybody else would have thought all of that was just weird, but not Steve. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the 20th century had turned out to be a fairly enriching experience – as well as stressing, but that had already been left behind – and Steve had learned not to be shocked by anything anymore, not when he was living in a free world where everything, everything, seemed to be possible. 

So, if Clint dealt with stress by pretending he was a kid, it was alright for Steve. Because that had been exactly how it had felt cradling Clint in his arms, alright. 

Too bad his mind was going to play tricks on him once more, and now, every time Steve remembered what had happened that night, it would be Tony and not Clint the one who snuggled on his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hum, not such a big reaction from Clint. I guess I wanted to show he already reached a point where he's comfortable with his little side, he's not struggling with any of this anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

“You should tell him,” Phil said out of the blue. Or maybe he had been talking about something in particular and Steve had been the one who hadn’t been paying attention, too lost in thought. 

“Tell who what?” Steve asked without taking his eyes off Clint, who was sitting on the floor very close to the TV. Phil had asked him to get away from it because he was going to harm his eyesight, but if Clint tended to be a bit too careless about these things, his Little self was worse. 

“Tony. You should tell Tony,” Phil replied as he raised the remote and pointed it at the TV, turning it off. 

“Hey!” Clint complained, turning his head around, a huge pout on his face. 

“I told you not to watch the TV so closely,” Phil scolded, “come and sit down over here, or I’m not turning it on again,” he warned, his voice serious. 

Clint hesitated a little before standing up and walking towards them, dragging his feet as a way to show how much he disliked being made to do something he didn’t want to. Once he was next to Phil, he flopped down on the floor grumpily and leaned forward as much as he could, surely trying to get as close as possible to the TV without disobeying Phil. Testing boundaries. Phil rolled his eyes, not liking the challenging behavior, but turned the TV on anyway. 

If Clint knew that, by leaning that way, the waistband of the pull-up he was wearing was totally visible, he would definitely get mad. 

“So?” Phil insisted, returning his attention to Steve. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t get what you’re saying,” Steve declared, finally taking his eyes off Clint to look at Phil. Maybe eye contact was necessary for him to understand what Phil wanted to say, because he was not following him at all. 

“Are you going to tell Tony?” Phil repeated.

“Tell him what?” Steve questioned, feeling a bit frustrated since the conversation didn’t seem to move forward. 

“That you want you both to try age playing,” Phil stated just like that, and Steve had to cough a few times to avoid choking with his own saliva. 

“What?!” Steve exclaimed, startled. 

“Oh, c’mon, don’t look so surprised, we both know that’s what you want,” Phil assured, bending his head a little and looking up at him. 

“No, I don’t,” Steve denied, looking away. He had never been able to hold a stare when he was lying. Because what Phil had said had been totally true. 

Over the last couple of months, Steve had been hanging out with Clint every once in a while. With _little_ Clint. Since that night Phil asked him to look after him, Clint had been more open about the whole situation. If by any chance he needed to spend some quality time in – what Steve had come to known as – his little headspace and Steve happened to be around, he would just slip into it. 

Of course, at the beginning, Clint had been very shy, insecure and twitchy. He wouldn’t really interact with Steve unless it was strictly necessary – like Steve being near something Clint wanted to grab or still having some food on his plate when Clint’s had been already empty and he was still hungry – staying beside his daddy – Phil – almost all the time, and even hiding behind him sometimes. 

But one afternoon, Phil had required his assistance once more, and Steve had ended up babysitting Clint until Phil had been able to make it to the Tower. Clint had hidden under the bed for the first hour, not really wanting to be Little when Steve was the only one around, but too deep into his little headspace to try to go back to his adult self. It wasn’t until Steve took out one of his toys – a remote control car – and started to play with it pretending to have a lot of fun, that Clint decided to come out from under the bed. 

It had been one of the best days in Steve’s life. Taking care of Clint, playing with him, making him laugh, the whole experience had been so… relaxing? Yes, Steve couldn’t think of a better word to describe it. He had always had this need for looking after others, it gave him a certain sensation of fulfillment. Saving the world, helping citizens by defeating any threat, those things did help Steve to satisfied that need, but the experience was always more rewarding if he got to help the people who was the closest to him. 

And from then on, Steve had soaked up everything JARVIS helped him to find about Age Play on the Internet. What a headspace was, the age ranges it covered, how some people liked to pretend they were children of the opposite gender, and so on. The more Steve knew about the topic, the less likely it’d be to mess things up when hanging out with little Clint. 

The more he knew about the topic, the more clearly he could explain it to Tony. 

Because no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, Steve couldn’t help visualizing Tony in Clint’s place. He couldn’t help wishing it was Tony instead of Clint the one who smiled broadly whenever he offered to play something fun; the one who worshipped him just for making him a milkshake – behind his daddy’s back – the one who felt asleep listening to him reading out loud a story; the one who ran away from him, laughing so hard even if Steve hadn’t caught him yet to pin him down and tickle him. He wanted Tony to be the one he could take care of that way. 

Yes, Phil was right. Steve wanted to try that so badly. The problem was he didn’t know if Tony would like it. Because, even if in Tony’s mind things looked the other way around, he was the type who needed to be looked after. Needless to say Tony wasn’t very keen of the idea, all the times Steve had tried to persuade him to do something to take better care of himself had already left a bad taste in his mouth. And Steve would feel very disappointed if he was turned down when he finally decided to tell Tony about the Age Play.

“Yes, you do. He’s very open-minded, I think he’ll give it a try at least if you ask,” Phil commented when Steve failed to say anything, ruffling Clint’s hair, making him whine.

“I don’t know,” Steve doubted. 

“Steve, he loves you, he’d do anything you ask,” Phil assured, hitting another nail on the head. 

One of the other things that had refrained Steve from bring up the topic with Tony was that he didn’t want him to do it just because he had asked. Steve wanted Tony to want it too, to like it. To really enjoy it. To help him cope with things like it had helped Clint.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kudos! :)

“I’m getting jealous,” Tony told him in his ear, hugging him from behind, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with Clint lately.”

“No, I haven’t. At least not more than I usually do,” Steve stated, enjoying how Tony bit his earlobe and played with it. 

“You should spend that time with me,” Tony complained. 

“Says the one who kicks me out of the workshop whenever I go with an invitation to do something,” Steve argued, turning his head so he could see Tony out of the corner of his eye. Tony took advantage of it and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. 

“We could do something right now,” Tony suggested, his voice clearly insinuating what he had in mind. 

“As tempting as that idea sounds,” Steve managed to say during the lapses Tony let his mouth free, “the only thing you’re going to do tonight is to eat, to take a shower and to sleep,” he informed. 

“Are you really rejecting me?” Tony asked, moving his head away a little to be able to see Steve’s face. 

“You haven’t come to bed for at least three days in a row,” Steve reported, trying to keep a serious face. 

“Correction, I haven’t gone to bed when you’ve been in it,” Tony remarked, releasing Steve from his embrace and straightening. “How do you know I haven’t been there when you’re training, spending time with Clint or out in the street?” he reasoned, walking around the sofa to stand in front of him.

“I asked JARVIS,” Steve informed, smiling. Tony glared. 

“I’m my own version of _I,Robot_ , just much much lamer. My creations don’t turn against humanity, just against me. And they don’t even have the intention of killing me, just making me miserable,” Tony complained, sounding more melodramatic than necessary, according to Steve. 

“I apologize, Sir,” JARVIS said, “but you gave Captain Rogers full access to the Tower, and that includes information, unless you order me differently.” 

“Shut it, you should know better than to betray your own creator,” Tony said, looking at the roof. He had mocked everybody for looking up every time JARVIS spoke, but instead of making them break that habit, he had picked it up himself. “One of these days you’re gonna try my patience, and I’m gonna turn you into an alarm clock, so the only thing you can say is the hour and everybody will hit you when you wake them up,” Tony warned, though everyone knew those were empty threats, Tony couldn’t live without the A.I. 

“So, was JARVIS lying?” Steve asked.

“Well, excuse me, but someone has to bring home the beacon,” Tony said sarcastically, looking falsely offended, “if I don’t meet my deadlines, Pepper won’t pay me.”

“First, _you_ pay her, not the other way around, and second, Pepper told me you didn’t have any deadline for anything, just paperwork you need to sign, which I’m pretty sure you weren’t doing down there,” Steve divulged.

“Pepper told you?” Tone echoed, raising an eyebrow, “Are you freaking stalking me or what?” he demanded, sounding extremely alarmed, but not angry at all.

“Well young man, I wouldn’t have to do it if you took better care of yourself,” Steve alleged, reaching out for Tony’s wrist. The latter shrieked when Steve grabbed him and pulled him towards him, making him fall on his lap. 

“There’s something very wrong with you calling me _young man_ ,” Tony stated, folding his arms, not caring in the slightest to be sitting on Steve’s legs. “I’m older than you, you know.”

“Well, technically, I’m older than you,” Steve observed, and he internally hesitated whether to say or not what he uttered next. “I’m old enough to be your daddy,” he joked, making sure the last word didn’t sound like an innuendo or anything like that. He paid close attention to Tony’s reaction to it. 

“With your being so insufferable mother hen, I think you’d be a mommy, not a daddy,” Tony corrected, sounding serious even if his expression was a mocking one. There wasn't any hint that told Steve the word had been taken in a bad way, though it hadn’t been taken seriously either. Not really a reaction in the truest sense of the world, but Steve could deal with that for now. 

“No, I’d be a daddy. A very good one, if I may say so,” Steve assured, leaning a bit so he could speak to Tony in the ear, “and you know what daddies do when stubborn kids don’t do as they’re told?” he asked, Tony shook his head as an answer, “they-tickle-them-until-they-agree-to-obey,” he informed slurring fast so Tony didn’t have time to react to what he was about to do. 

Soon, Tony was cracking up under Steve’s hands, who knew all the most ticklish places in his body. Steve asked Tony a few times if he was ready to give in and get ready for bed, but his stubborn partner shook his head effusively as he tried to get away from him, ineffectively. It was until Steve lifted Tony’s t-shirt and pressed his mouth against his belly, blowing raspberries, that Tony couldn’t take it anymore.

“No! S-St-Stop!” Tony managed to say between guffaws, gasping. 

“Are you going to eat, take a shower and go to bed?” Steve questioned, looking up but keeping his face close to Tony’s belly. When the latter didn’t answer right away, Steve blew yet another raspberry while his hands took care of his sensitive ribs. 

“Y-yes! Ye-yes!” Tony promised as he pushed Steve’s head with both hands. Steve stopped. 

“You see, I’d be a good daddy, I got my child to do as he’s being asked,” he pointed out, earning a playful punch from Tony, clearly failing to see the true meaning behind Steve’s words. 

Steve might not have made up his mind whether to tell Tony about the age play thing or not, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying to find out how Tony would probably take it. Maybe if Steve tested the waters a little bit before bringing the topic up, he could bring himself to do it. Maybe if he showed Tony slyly how things would be, his chances of getting him to agree would increase. 

So far, so good.


	5. Chapter 5

"You've been acting weird," Tony assured.

"No, I haven't," Steve denied. 

"Yes, you have," Tony argued, staring at him. He'd never liked to be contradicted. 

"Weird how?" Steve asked, not really agreeing, but curious about Tony's speculations. 

"Well, for instance, _this_ ," Tony said as he pointed at the fork Steve held in front of Tony’s face. "I can feed myself, you know." 

"So, the fact that you haven't grabbed a bite the last two days is deliberate?” Steve questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

"Seriously? JARVIS! Stop ratting on me!" Tony ordered, glaring at the roof. Steve chuckled. "What's so funny?" 

"JARVIS didn't tell me anything this time," Steve informed, still holding the fork up. "This is the first time you emerge from the workshop for two days, I just figured you haven't eaten anything substantial while being down there," he explained, moving the fork closer to Tony's mouth, "c'mon, open up," he asked, but Tony moved his head away while he pushed Steve's hand. 

"You haven't answered to my question," Tony complained. 

"I don't recall you asking me anything," Steve assured, trying to get rid of Tony's grip. 

"Why have you been acting weird?" Tony questioned, hand firm. 

"I don't know what you mean," Steve lied. 

"Again, _this_. Also, you bathed me the other night,” Tony recalled. 

"It's not the first time we shared a bath," Steve interrupted. 

"Yes, but for other purposes than bathing," Tony insinuated, "not you literally making me a bubble bath and bathing me. And the gift you gave me on Valentine's Day," he continued listing. 

"What's wrong with it?" Steve sounded truly disappointed. He had spent a lot of time choosing it. 

"Who gives a teddy bear away on Valentine's?! You should’ve given me the same thing you gave me last year, you with a red ribbon. _Just_ a red ribbon,” Tony said, expression showing disappointment for not having had received that. 

“First, I didn’t give you that, you wanted me to, but I didn’t.”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t. You’re mean,” Tony interrupted, voice falsely hurt. 

“And second,” Steve proceeded, ignoring Tony’s last comment, “A lot of people give teddy bears on Valentine’s Day, it’s like a very typical present,” Steve indicated.

“No, it’s not. Flowers and chocolates, those are the typical gifts,” Tony said, still refraining Steve to move the fork closer to him.

“If you’re making such a fuss over a teddy bear, I don’t even want to imagine how you would’ve reacted if I’d bought you flowers.” Tony couldn’t refute that comment in the slightest, “And it wouldn’t have been very congruent if I’d given you chocolates when I’m always telling you to eat healthily. Besides, you liked the teddy bear, didn’t you? You even slept hugging it,” Steve commented.

“You placed it in my arms when I was already asleep!” Tony argued.

“Just the first night,” Steve remarked, and he couldn’t help smiling when Tony’s cheeks acquired a cute shade of pink.

“You weren’t in bed and it smells like you,” Tony muttered. Steve’s smile got bigger.

“You still haven’t answered to my question!” Tony complained, trying to change the topic. 

Steve signed heavily, putting the fork down on the plate as it was clear Tony wouldn’t accept any food until his curiosity was satisfied. “Can’t I pamper you?” he asked. Tony raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by how simple Steve’s reason seemed to be. “Don’t you like it when I coddle you?”

"Eh… no, it’s not that, it’s… it’s more like… I mean, why?” Tony babbled.

“Because I like to do it? Because I love you? Because I want to make you feel loved and cared? Do I really need a reason to pamper you?” Steve asked, sounding serious. Age play aside, Steve liked to take care of Tony, and he had always felt bad when Tony rejected any kind of attention. Steve had gotten to know him well enough to be sure the reason Tony did that was his lack of acknowledgment of truly deserving that treatment. 

“I guess not,” Tony hesitated as he squinted at him, not completely convinced of what Steve had said. 

“Come here,” Steve asked, holding out his hand. Tony stared at it doubtfully. “Come,” Steve insisted, stretching his arm as much as he could without standing up. 

Tony looked at Steve. He looked at Steve’s hand. Then, he looked at Steve’s lap, foreseeing where he was going to end up, and looked up at Steve once more. Rolling his eyes at him, Tony held Steve’s hand and let himself be pulled off the chair and led towards him, being turned around so he could sit down on Steve’s lap sideways, an arm surrounding his waist. 

“Does it really bother you that much the fact that I want to express my affection by looking after you? By coddling you?” Steve asked, voice serious. Yes, he wanted Tony to agree to age play, he wanted to show him how things could be, but what Steve didn’t want was doing something that Tony wasn’t comfortable with. Even if Tony had argued several times that Steve shouldn’t, he will always put Tony’s needs before his. 

“It’s not that,” Tony said, looking down at the tiles like if they were the most interesting thing in the world, perhaps to try to hide the fact that he was blushing a little, irrefutable proof that he had liked Steve’s gestures more than he would let himself admit. “It’s just that–” he trailed off, failing to put his thoughts in order. 

“Look, the only thing I want you to tell me is if you want me to stop,” Steve interrupted, saving Tony from having to speak up his mind, something Steve knew he certainly didn’t enjoy. 

Tony played with his hands a bit before answering quietly, “no.”

“OK, that’s enough for now,” Steve informed, pressing a kiss on Tony’s temple at the same time he reached for the fork he had put away minutes ago. “Open up,” he ordered as he held it up in front of his face once more. 

Tony hesitated for a millisecond, but he ended up leaning on Steve’s chest and letting the latter feed him until his plate was completely empty.


	6. Chapter 6

How to tell Tony about the Age Play? That had been the only thought in Steve’s mind for weeks, and he still hadn’t been able to come up with an answer. 

Should he ask Phil to help him? Should he print all the information he had found online and give it to Tony? Should he get JARVIS to display to Tony the websites he had visited? Should he just sit down with Tony and explain him himself? Steve had no idea of how to proceed. 

The only thing he knew was that he was running out of time for two reasons: one, Tony was getting increasingly skeptical and he didn’t fall completely for his excuses anymore – Steve could tell Tony knew there was something beyond those reasons he proclaimed, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. And two, Steve’s conscious couldn’t take it anymore. Steve couldn’t shake the feeling he was somehow lying to Tony, because, even if he did mean it when he said he was treating Tony like he was just for the sake of it, Tony’s hunches were right, there was something else.

And Tony deserved to know what it was. Tony deserved, first and foremost, honesty. 

“Steveee,” he heard Tony whine in a way Steve automatically knew he had been trying to attract his attention but Steve had been too caught up in his own thoughts to listen to him. “Pay attention to meeee,” Tony demanded as he pulled the sleeve of his t-shirt, making Steve chuckle. If Steve took the time to analyze it, Tony already behaved a little childish sometimes.

“Yes?” Steve said, taking his eyes off the book he held in front of him and turning to look at Tony. He chuckled more when he saw him writhing next to him a bit too melodramatically, something that could only be described as a pout on his face. “Why the face?” 

“You’re ignoring me,” Tony complained, releasing Steve’s sleeve so he could cross his arms over his chest. 

“That’s not true,” Steve disagreed. 

“Yes, it is. You’ve been reading that book for hours! What’s the point of making me come to bed if you’re not gonna pay attention to me?” Tony protested, totally overreacting. 

First, Steve hadn’t really been reading the book, just staring at it lost in thought – there was no way Tony knew that, though. And second, Tony had been the one ignoring him, that had been why Steve had gotten the book. 

It had been one of those rare nights when Tony had left the workshop by his own decision and had gotten into bed at a pretty reasonable hour. That didn’t mean his head was off of whatever he was working on at the time, so he usually had his tablet or cell phone with him, and typed until late at night. Once he finished, there were two options: Tony would either get to sleep to try to make up for all his previous sleepless nights, or do exactly what he was doing now, demand attention. 

“I don’t recall making you come to bed,” Steve said, putting down the book on his lap, “but I’m very glad you’re here,” he hurried to add, not wanting Tony to take his comment in a bad way. 

“It doesn’t look like it,” Tony accused, his pout deepening. “Looks like that book’s more interesting than me.” 

“Hey, I only grabbed the book because your cell phone was more interesting to you than me a couple of hours ago,” Steve excused himself. “If my memory serves me correctly, I tried to make conversation and you just blew me off and continued with whatever you were doing,” he reminded Tony. The latter opened his mouth clearly trying to argued, but no words were pronounced, accepting this way that Steve hadn’t been mistaken. 

“Well, I don’t have my cell phone anymore. Are you ready to put aside your book and pay attention to me?” Tony asked a bit crankily. 

“I don’t know, I’ve been wanting to read this book but some time now, JARVIS showed me this website were people comment about books, and this one has very good reviews,” Steve commented, sounding serious. “I got interested in it just by reading the synopsis.”

“I’m out of here,” Tony announced as he swung his legs off the bed, not liking Steve’s answer and failing to realize it had been a joke. Steve leaned over and grabbed Tony by the wrist before he could get out of reach, pulling him firmly, but gently, until he was back on the bed. 

“I was kidding!” Steve said, trying not to laugh at Tony’s glare. 

“I don’t care, I’m leaving so you can continue with your book,” Tony snapped, struggling to get rid of Steve’s grip, but the only thing he managed was making Steve pulled him more until he ended up sitting on his lap, trapped in his embrace. “I’m starting to think you have a thing for having me on your lap,” Tony insinuated, not attempting to get away anymore, but continuing glaring at him. 

“And you have a thing for getting away from me,” Steve said, shifting a bit and pushing the pillows behind him into a better position, so he could lean on them more comfortably and in turn, pull Tony closer until he was leaning on his chest, still imprisoned between his arms. 

“You gotta be kidding me!” Tony exclaimed when Steve took the book once more. “if you’re going to continue reading, why are you keeping me here?” he complained. 

“Don’t you want to find out why this book caught my attention?” Steve asked while he placed the book on Tony’s lap in a way both of them could see it, looking for the page he had been reading before getting distracted. 

“No,” Tony denied, pushing the book away, unsuccessfully. 

“Let’s make a deal, I’ll read a chapter, if you don’t like it at all, I’ll stop and we’ll do anything you want,” Steve suggested, giving him an encouraging squeeze. 

“Anything?” Tony echoed, turning his head and staring at him, letting him know he wasn’t going to put up with any empty promises. 

“Anything,” Steve promised before clearing his throat to begin reading out loud. 

It was not surprising that Tony got hooked by the story, up to the point of asking Steve to keep reading way pass the chapter he was initially going to read. Tony even got angry when Steve proposed stopping to get to sleep, so he continued reading it several minutes after Tony’s breathing evened out and went completely limp, asleep. 

These, _these_ were the kind of moments Steve wanted to have. The ones he wanted to share with Tony. Peaceful, entertaining and fulfilling. It was just perfect, Tony snuggled against him, trusting he could sleep calmly as Steve would take care of any trouble that might arise. Because that was all Steve wanted to do, he just wanted to take care of Tony in every possible way. The age play would just allow Tony to take part in that process and benefit from it. 

Although they would never reach that point if Steve kept stalling the talk, if he just kept tricking Tony into have moments like this. Yes, they were great, but they would be much better once Tony knew the whole thing. 

If honesty was something Tony deserved, being tricked or manipulated was something he certainly did not deserved. And Steve was afraid he may have been doing that.

Steve might not know how to bring up the topic with Tony yet, but he was convinced now that ‘as soon as possible’ was the time to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, "the talk" is coming soon.


	7. Chapter 7

Of all the people who had moved into the Tower, it had been Steve the one who had struggled the most to get used to it. As hard as it may be to believe, it had been the luxury the thing that had refrained him from feeling comfortable living there, as it contrasted immensely with the places he had lived in. Tony even remembered seeing him sleeping on the floor a couple of times, and when he had asked him why was that, Steve had told him the mattress on his bed was too comfortable to be comfortable. Huh? 

And what to say about the technology? For a long time, Steve had stayed away from any gadget and the only ones he used were the TV, a cell phone – though only for phone calls – and appliances. It hadn’t been that he didn’t know how to use them – it was a complete misconception that Steve couldn’t handle electronic devices because he came from a different era and he couldn’t understand them, he was a smart guy and he surely could – it had been that he hadn’t wanted to, a bit against how people seemed to be obsessed with them. 

But it was just a matter of time before Tony got him hooked with the perks of technology, showing him how useful it could be when used properly. By the time they started dating, Steve was a lost cause. Tony would never get tired of seeing Steve’s expression of pure amazement whenever he found out that something he thought impossible could be achieved with today’s technological advances. And when Steve let himself try the internet, well, that had been it. He could spend all day surfing on the Internet if there was nothing better to do, especially now that it wasn’t necessary to be sitting down in front of a computer to do so, as you could use a cell phone or a tablet. 

The downside was that, Steve tended to borrow Tony’s tablet without letting him now even if Tony had given him one for himself. It wasn’t a big deal, Tony was all ‘what’s mine if yours’ with Steve and he really didn’t mind lending it to him. The thing was that, even if Steve was a pretty organized person, he tended to forget giving his tablet back, and when Tony needed to use it, it was never on the place he had left it. Which led him to his current predicament, where the hell had Steve left his tablet?

"JARVIS, do you know where my tablet is?" Tony asked after having checked, and not found it, on the places Steve usually placed it.

"Captain Rogers was doing some research some days ago in your bedroom, Sir," JARVIS informed him. 

Tony couldn't help rolling his eyes. Steve was always doing research, he took it very seriously when someone recommended him to see or listen to something that would help him catch up with the twentieth century. If his memory served him right, Tony could even swear Steve had needed another notepad to write down every recommendation. 

"Aha!" Tony exclaimed when he found his tablet. "Under the bed? Really? Really?" He said to no one, shocked by where Steve had left his tablet. Tony was already visualizing the conversation he would have with Steve to complain about how careless he had been with his things, when he remembered why it had ended there. A couple of days ago, it had been a pretty wild night. A dork smile appeared on Tony’s face as he remembered it. Well, Tony would let it pass just this time. 

Flopping down on the bed, Tony unblocked the tablet and started looking for the thing that had him searching for the gadget for more than thirty minutes – yes, he knew he should have asked JARVIS for its whereabouts way before – some sketches of an idea he had had in the middle of the night who knew when and he had forgotten to save. Good thing Steve never closed any apps Tony had left opened. 

“Here you are,” Tony said to himself when he found it, selecting the save button right away. Now the only thing he had to do was logging into his email and attach the file. “JARVIS, why didn’t you notified me I had a lot of emails?” Tony asked once he saw his inbox. This was exactly why he sometimes abstained from getting his hands on any device, he tended to waste a lot of time checking and answering emails. 

“You asked me not to disturb you until you finished, Sir,” JARVIS reminded him. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Tony acknowledged, his fingers already moving fast on the screen. 

Before he even realized it, Tony was already comfortably settled on the bed, back leaned against the headboard, legs resting on the mattress, one on the top of the other, and the hour hand of the watch on his wrist pointing at two numbers ahead of the number it pointed when he arrived to the bedroom. Yes, definitely Tony lost track of time when checking his e-mail. 

By the time Tony finished reading the last one, he was too tired and too hungry to go back to his workshop. So, he opted to rest for a while and have something to eat before resuming work. Steve would arrive soon and he would surely bring some food with him. 

Rearranging the pillows behind him, Tony looked for a more comfortable position and focused on the browser he had just opened, trying to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn’t fall asleep. He might not want to go back to work yet, but he did need to finish some things before going to bed today. The newest technological advances was the topic he usually liked to read online, and today was not different. Seeing how some of the latest creations were far behind his gave him some kind of pleasure. 

Though this afternoon, Tony couldn’t help focusing more on the advertisement that was displayed on the websites he was visiting than on the content of the websites themselves.

\- - - -

The smell of hamburgers filled the air inside the elevator. Steve would have preferred to buy something a bit healthier, but Tony loved cheeseburgers and Steve happened to pass by a Burger King on his way home. Some other day he’ll fix him a salad or something more nutritious.

After a quick trip to the communal kitchen, where he left some burgers just in case someone wanted some, he walked back the elevator, and asked JARVIS to take him where Tony was.

"Huh," he expressed when the elevator started going up towards their floor, expecting Tony to still be in the workshop. "Is Tony sick or something?" He asked, looking up. 

"No, Sir isn't sick," JARVIS answered to him, and Steve could swear he heard a bit of mockery in the A.I.’s voice – though Steve didn’t know it that was even possible. It was common knowledge that when Tony got sick, emerging from the workshop was the last thing he did. 

"Hey, you're done early," Steve pointed out while he stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the living room where Tony was sitting on a couch, leaning over to press a quick kiss on his lips.

"I got distracted checking some things, but I do have to go downstairs to finish some things," Tony informed, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him. He looked very concentrated, up to the point of not kissing him back as he usually did. Weird. 

“Well, I bought some cheeseburgers, what if we eat them before you go back to your workshop?” Steve suggested on his way to the kitchen. It would be nice for once not to have to talk Tony into coming upstairs for dinner. “They taste better when they’re not reheated,” he commented, taking the burgers out of the bags.

“You know, online advertising is very annoying sometimes,” Tony mentioned from the sofa, his eyes still glued to the screen. “But people have to admit it’s very ingenious too.”

“What?” Steve asked, taken a little aback by how random that comment had been.

“Have you ever wondered why all the pop-up ads seem to show you just things that you could really be interested in?” Tony questioned, head still lowered, but his eyes finally looking up at him. 

“Not really,” Steve answered, looking at Tony with a confused expression, unwrapping the hamburgers to put them on a plate. 

“Well, everything you do on a computer, cell phone or tablet is automatically saved. Advertisers keep a watchful eye on your browsing habits, so, if you look for cars on the Internet, there’s a great possibility the pop-ups you see are from car agencies or websites,” Tony explained, voice serious. It was far from the first time Tony explained him something related to these topics, but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling there was something off. “I usually get ads about gadgets and stuff like that.”

“Yeah?” Steve expressed, not knowing what else to say as he didn’t know where this conversation was going. 

“Yes. Well, unless you’d used my tablet before. When you use it, all the pop-ups usually show me advertising of painting tools and things like that,” Tony informed, turning a bit around to he could lean his arm on the back of the sofa, facing him. “So, I was intrigued when the ads showed me something different today, because there was no doubt they had to do something with the last things that were browsed in here," Tony said, raising the tablet so Steve could see what the screen displayed. 

Steve’s knees felt shaky when he focused his eyes on the screen and saw what looked like a porn website – he had the misfortune of being able to recognize them pretty well – but not a normal one, but one whose theme was undoubtedly related to Age Play, as the girls on the main page were wearing childish attires as well as diapers. Hadn’t he closed all the windows he opened when he was looking for the information he wanted to share with Tony? He was pretty sure he had. 

"So, I wondered how it was possible for such advertisement to show up here if I never visit such websites, and you certainly don't either. I thought to myself a virus must have been the responsible. I was even going to scold you for not being careful and visit every website the browser shows you whenever you do research," Tony continued relating, putting the tablet down on the couch when he made sure Steve had seen what he showed to him, "I went to the history to try to identify the website where the virus may have come from, and let me tell you, I found some very interesting sites." 

"Wait, let me explain you," Steve interrupted, clearly seeing now what all this was about. 

"No, I haven't finished yet,” Tony deny, making it obvious he didn’t appreciate having been interrupted. “At first I thought somebody else had used the tablet, I couldn't figure out why you'd look for such things," Tony proceeded, his voice calm, though Steve could tell it was false composure. "But then I remembered how weird you've been acting and then everything just made sense."

"It's not what you think," Steve interrupted again. 

"So, all your gestures and coddles weren't a way to make me get interested in this Age Play thing?" Tony asked, glaring at him. 

"Well, kind of, but–" 

"So, what? Is that something that turns you on? Do you want me to get down on my hands and knees and call you Daddy? Do you want to humiliate me by making me wear and use diapers? Do you want me to be naughty so you can you spank me? Is that a thing for you?" Tony demanded, and Steve couldn’t help wincing at how wrong that sounded. 

"No! It's nothing like that! You got it all wrong!" Steve assured, walking around the kitchen's island to move closer to Tony, though he stopped when Tony looked like he would leave if he got any closer. "It's nothing about sex, its nothing about wanting to humiliate you! It's just,… I… I thought it would be a viable way to help you to cope with everything," Steve informed, staying a few inches away from the sofa. 

“It doesn’t look that way,” Tony stated. 

“It is! It can be very relaxing, Phil and Clint do it and it seems to work for them, it seems to really help Clint deal with bad days,” he spilled out before he could stop himself, even covering his mouth with both hands, but it was already too late. That information wasn’t something he should shout to the four winds, Clint might have said he wouldn’t mind if someone found out about it, but he had said he’d rather they didn’t. How could he screw more things up when the thing he wanted to do was fix this misunderstanding? 

“So, if you don’t get what you want from me, you’ll go to them? Is that why you’ve been spending more time with Clint?” Tony accused, glaring at him.

“No! I was just trying to set them as an example, which I really shouldn’t have,” Steve promised, running his hands though his hair as a sign of frustration. “Please, let’s sit down, let me explain you,” Steve pleaded when he saw Tony standing up in a brusque way. 

“I don’t feel like talking right now,” Tony informed, turning around and moving towards the elevator.

“C’mon Tony, it’s not that bad, I’m pretty sure you’d like it! I mean, I’ve been showing you how it’d be like and you haven’t really hated it, have you?” Steve risked saying, because pointing out that wasn’t a good idea right now. 

“Look, maybe I went too far a couple of minutes ago, but I don’t give a shit about that, I mean, I’ve never heard anything about age playing, and I do think is kind of odd, but it’s far from the worse thing I know people like to do,” Tony confessed, turning around to see him. 

“Then why are you leaving?” Steve asked.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Tony snapped, not refraining his face from showing how angry he was anymore, “For someone who’s always saying communication is the most important thing in a relationship, you sure can be very manipulative and evasive when it’s _your_ turn of saying what’s in your mind. You’re a pain whenever I don’t want to talk about something, but now that you were the one who should’ve talked, you go and do this?” he reproached, “Why didn’t you come and tell me what you wanted? Why did you prefer to be all sneaky about it?” he asked, voice serene, but pissed. 

“Because I thought you wouldn’t agree,” Steve excused himself. 

“That’s not an excuse, and it just worsens this situation,” Tony stated before turning around once more and leaving the room. 

Steve had fucked up big time, and he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony never let Steve talk about the topic again.
> 
> **The End**
> 
> Just kidding. 
> 
> Well, I did want to have a little bit of drama in this one, I mean, Steve way of handling this wasn't the best option, and I wanted Tony to made him see that. 
> 
> So, it's going to take a bit more (not that much) until Tony wants to give it a try. Let's see how this develops. 
> 
> If you saw any mistakes, please let me know :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it took me forever to write one more chapter for this story. I don't know, I've been kind of busy, I was hooked with other to stories and I guess I wasn't really in a mood of writing lately. 
> 
> Anyway, I went to Comicx some days ago (a restaurant with a comic-book theme) and I just was so happy eating in a place like that (I had Ironman and Dummy behind me XD) and I just felt like writing again. 
> 
> So, here it is, I apologize in advance for any mistakes you may run into, I'm pretty sure there are some as I really had some problems trying to express in English what I would have said in my own language, and I did a lot of research trying to find the correct expression, but I'm not sure I nailed it.

Tony _hated_ to be mad at Steve. It made him feel uneasy, cranky and, just unhappy. If they couldn’t spend too much time together per se – battles to fight, work to do, SHIELD stuff to deal with, creations to develop, volunteer work to offer to do, deadlines to meet – having an argument made it much worst. It deprived him of the possibility of stopping whatever he was doing to go and steal a kiss from Steve just because he had felt like to. 

OK, to be honest, Tony had done that just a couple of times since they started dating – stopping in the middle of a project wasn’t something he tended to do – but Tony wanted to have that option available, dammit! He didn’t want to have to sneak off in his own house, he didn’t want to sleep alone (Tony will ignore any comments about how little he already slept), he didn’t want to furrow his brow whenever he ran into him, and he didn’t want to ask Thor to pair up with him during battle. 

For instance, right now, Tony would have gone upstairs to look for Steve instead of lying on the couch in his workshop staring at the roof for more than thirty minutes, unable to focused on anything. But he had to stay right where he was because he was mad at him, which created a kind of paradox since if Tony weren’t angry with him, he would be able to concentrate which eliminated the reason why he wanted to go and look for him. 

Nevertheless, the fact that Tony didn’t like to be mad at Steve didn’t mean he was going to let what had happened pass just like that. Tony undoubtedly had the right to be upset, Steve had gone too far this time. Yes, Tony knew there would be some people who would say he was overreacting, after all, Steve hadn’t done anything but feed him, bath him, put him to bed, entertain him and some other things that supported Steve’s claim of not being doing anything wrong, just pampering because he loved looking after him. Tony wasn’t going to say that hadn’t been true, but that hadn’t been the whole truth and that was what made him furious. 

If Steve had gotten the feeling Tony wasn’t going to go along with the Age Play thing, why did he try to involve him in it anyway? Why didn’t he just tell him what he wanted to do? Who knows how many arguments they had had at the beginning of their relationship, most of them due to his lack of communication skills, and now Steve went and did this? As if Tony had never asked Steve to try new things! And Steve might have been a bit reluctant a few times, but they had always come to an agreement. 

Age Play was just another thing they could have definitely talked about, Tony had meant what he had said: it didn’t seem to be that twisted, there certainly were worse things people used as a coping mechanism. 

But don’t misunderstand him, Tony wasn’t saying he would have agreed if Steve had asked. He knew perfectly well Steve had never meant to give it a try with the intention of humiliating him or a way to get aroused, Steve’s mother hen trait had always been so tangible that Tony was sure Steve only wanted to take care of him. And, truth to be told, all the research Tony had done about age playing after their argument – no need for Steve to find out about that – had shown him how fulfilling it could be for both parties. 

And maybe, just maybe, Tony wouldn’t have disliked it that much if he had had the opportunity to give it a try – he hadn’t exactly dreaded the pampering, though things like bottles and diapers were something Tony couldn’t really picture himself trying. 

And Tony said _would have_ , because there was no way he was agreeing to all that after what Steve have done.

\- - - -

“I told you to talk to him about it, not to try to get him into it,” Phil scolded, furrowing his brow in a way that let Steve know how much he disapproved his course of action.

“And I told you not to tell anyone,” Clint said, kicking him in the leg with his bare foot from the other side of the couch. 

“I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I can’t really understand why I did what I did now,” Steve acknowledged, turning his head to look at Phil. “And I’m sorry for telling him about that, I really didn’t mean to, I swear it just slipped out,” he apologized, turning his head now to look at Clint. 

“If he ever jokes about it, I’m gonna stop talking to you,” Clint assured, folding his arms over his chest and kicking him one more time. 

“I don’t think he will,” Steve assured. _I don’t think he will ever want to bring up the topic again_ , he thought to himself. 

“You owe me lunch for the rest of the month,” Clint informed, sounding serious. 

“Of course,” Steve agreed without hesitating, though he wondered why Clint would ask for such a thing when it was Tony the one who paid for all their food.

“And you will write my reports for the next fifty missions,” Clint added.

“You can count on that,” Steve agreed again. 

“And you won’t ask me to do any chores for the rest of the year,” Clint continued.

“You won’t have to lift a finger,” Steve assured, already visualizing the arguments there would be when Steve asked everyone else to do their assigned chores (no need for Tony to complain for an umpteenth time how useless it was to do chores when having a cleaning staff, it was all about acquiring discipline, learning to be responsible of their own home and it also served as a bonding time) and they saw Clint doing nothing. 

“And you will let me skip SHIELD’s stupid checkup.”

“Only when I make sure it’s not really necessary,” Steve conceded, making Clint’s eyes snapped open as he was clearly not expecting him to agree to such request. 

“Hey!” Phil complained, but he was completely ignored. 

“And you won’t make go to bed early, or eat disgusting food, or limit my time with the TV and videogames, and wear stupid pull-ups!” Clint slurred, obviously trying to take advantage of the fact that Steve was agreeing to everything. 

“OK, that’s enough! Steve has no say in those things,” Phil said before Steve could agree. Steve was willing to do anything to refrain Clint from getting mad at him, with Tony was enough. “He might babysit you sometimes, but he’s not the one who has to deal with a fussy toddler when you haven’t slept or eaten correctly or when you’ve had an accident,” Phil scolded, and his glare deepened when Clint stick his tongue out at him. 

Steve couldn’t help chuckling. He liked this, he liked how light the atmosphere was around Phil and Clint, and how both of them didn’t care to show their daddy and little side even when they weren’t age playing. It showed how comfortable they were with each other, how stable their relationship was. How awful it would have been if they had kicked him out of it. How painful it would be if Tony and him never reached that level, because it would have been all his fault. 

“What are you going to do?” Phil asked, snapping him out of his stupor. 

“Huh?”

“What are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?” Phil repeated. 

“Oh, I will, in a couple of days,” Steve replied. Tony and he had this thing of giving each other some days to cool off every time they had a fight, both of them having agreed it wasn’t such a good idea to try to fix things when anger was talking for them. “But to tell you the true, I don’t really know what I’m going to say,” Steve confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

“You should apologize,” Phil stated. 

“Of course I’m going to apologize, I know I shouldn’t have done what I did,” Steve assured, “I was talking about the Age Play.”

“Well, you could tell him about it yourself this time, and explain him why you want you guys to give it a try,” Phil suggested.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a good idea. I mean, I’m sure Tony’s done his own research about it, there’s nothing more I could say about the topic,” Steve said, reaching for a cushions just to have something to do with his hands, “and suggesting to give it a try? I guess I already blew that chance.”


	9. Chapter 9

Even though Steve was certain Tony was trying to be as silent as possible, he heard him since the moment he opened the door. Perhaps because he had been awake, perhaps because the serum had improved his hearing greatly, or perhaps because Tony’s mere presence disencumbered Steve, the knot in his chest uncurling a little. 

It had been four weeks since the last time Tony and he had shared the bed, and it was just getting unbearable for Steve to wake up in an empty cold bed every single day. It wasn’t like Tony slept with him _every_ night – Tony would never change that habit of his of locking himself in his workshop for days in a row – but he did try to come upstairs at least a couple of days a week. 

They had talked, of course they had talk, they never went without speaking to each other for more than five days. Steve was positive that that was the time required to cool off and waiting more would make things worse. 

Steve had apologized thousands of times, and he had meant every single apology. He got it, he knew it had been his fault, he knew he should have never lied to Tony that way, he knew the way of proceeding he had chosen hadn’t be the best one, and he understood perfectly well why Tony had gotten angry. Tony had accepted his apology, though it had been obvious he was going to need more time to eliminate all trace of the feelings of resentment he was experiencing towards him. In spite of himself, Steve had given him more space, all his whole being aching with longing for Tony whenever he saw him leaving a room Steve had just walked into, paring with someone else during a battle or failing to show in their room yet one more night. 

But there was nothing Steve could do except waiting patiently, otherwise Tony would never come around. 

Afraid he would scare Tony away, Steve refrained himself from opening his eyes or showing any signs of being awake. Was Tony there to stay or had he come here to look for something and he would leave once he found it? Steve hoped it was the former. 

“Fuck!” Steve heard Tony murmur a curse after feeling a slight shove in the bed. 

“Tony?” Steve asked, rolling over so he could face him. The arc reactor illuminated the room, and Steve could see Tony raising his leg to take his right feet in his left hand, wincing. “Are you OK?” he asked, sitting up. 

“The freaking bed got in my way,” Tony explained, sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet still in his hand. Steve couldn’t help chuckling, he would never understand how Tony always managed to bump into things in his own room. “Did you move it?” Tony accused.

“No, it is where it’s always been,” Steve assured, trying not to think too much about the fact that Tony hadn’t looked at him not even once yet. “Are you OK?” he repeated when he saw Tony kept rubbing his toes. 

“Of course I’m not OK, I just stubbed my stupid pinky toe!” Tony complained, too melodramatically in Steve’s opinion. He had seen him take way more awful blows during battle, but whenever he hit himself like this, Tony loved to overreact. Perhaps because Steve tended to get all worried about him, overreacting too, to a point where he even offered to kiss it better. Tony claimed he didn’t like it, but when Steve pressed several kisses to whatever part of his body Tony had hurt, that expression of contentment in his face couldn’t be mistaken. 

A shame Steve wouldn’t dare to do such a thing just now, because Tony would surely consider it something too childish, and childish things were off the table now. Anything that could be remotely related to Age Play was. Tony had made himself very clear in that aspect, he wasn’t willing to give age playing a try, and Steve had to and was going to respect that, in spite of what he wanted. 

Regardless of whether Steve’s gut was right or not, when it told him Tony had made that decision not because he was sure he wasn’t going to like it at all, but because of the way Steve had handled things. 

“Leave it to you to stub with furniture every time you can,” Steve commented, refraining himself from moving closer to Tony and rub his toes. 

“Shut up, no all of us were injected with the serum and are now immune to pain,” Tony pointed out. Finally looking at him. 

"I'm not immune to pain, I do feel pain," Steve clarified, though he doubted he would feel nothing but a tickle if he stubbed himself, "besides, you don't need the serum, you just need to be more careful and pay more attention to the things that are surrounding you," he said mockingly, knowing perfectly well what Tony's answer was going to be. 

"Well, excuse me, but my brain has way more important things to think about than what furniture is in the room." There it was, "there are even some people who wears the same style of clothes everyday so they don't have to waste time or energy on things that are futile and irrelevant, and… oh! For fuck’s sake! Wipe that look off your face!” Tony exclaimed, looking annoyed. 

“What? What look?” Steve asked, confused. 

“That damn expression you always wear whenever you want to hug me but you don’t dare to do it,” Tony said. 

“I don’t have an expression for that!” Steve defended himself. He might be dying to stretch out his arms and pull Tony into a hug, but he did not have a face for that.

“Yes, you do! You used to wear it when we just started dating, it was annoying. I mean, we were already dating, you could hug me whenever you wanted," Tony informed, swinging his legs over the mattress, crossing them.

"Well, at the beginning you didn't seem so comfortable with my displays of affection,” Steve recalled. Steve was a hugger, and even if Tony couldn’t deny anymore he liked to be hugged, at the beginning he got all tensed whenever Steve hugged him out of the blue for no reason. “So, can I?” he asked, raising and opening his arms so there was no doubt of what he wanted to do. 

Tony stared at him for a couple of seconds, and when Steve thought he might refuse, Tony rolled his eyes and agree. “OK,”

Moving closer to him in slow motion, to give him the chance to back away just in case Tony decided to change his mind, Steve wrapped his arms around Tony, pressing him against his chest as much as possible. His hands clung to Tony’s muscle shirt almost with desperation as he took a deep breath so he could inhale his scent – a combination of coffee and sweat that was so characteristic in him after spending many days in his workshop – realization of how much he had missed Tony hitting him hard. 

“Hey, normal human being here, not a super soldier,” Tony said, his voice choked, and even if Steve was clearly hugging him too tightly, Tony didn’t try to struggle free. 

“Oh, sorry,” Steve apologized, loosening his grip. “Are we OK?” he asked after several minutes, placing his hands on Tony’s upper arms and pushing him slightly away from him, wanting to see his face. 

“You ever lie to me like that or try to manipulate me the way you did, and we’re done,” Tony threatened, the expression on his face showing how serious that promise was. 

“Never again,” Steve promised, pulling him into a hug once more. This time, Tony hugged him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw any horrible spelling or grammar mistake? Please, let me know :)


	10. Chapter 10

An idea, it always started with an idea. Every time Tony got an idea, no matter how small or brief it seemed to be, it usually ended up taking over his brain, impossible to eradicate, slowly developing until it was fully formed and was there to stay. 

That was the reason why Tony tended to lock himself in his workshop for days in a row, because an idea that was not carry through could be something frustrating and unbearable. He needed to see those mental pictures making their way into reality. An unnerving feeling of anxiety would pervade his whole being until he had created or done whatever it was the thing that had occurred to him. So, a little sleep and food deprivation was a small price to pay in order for his mind to be peaceful, even if everybody else disagreed. 

But what happened when the seed of the idea wasn’t something he had come up with himself, but rather something that someone else had planted there? Well, it would eat him away until he carried it through, just like if it had been his own idea, his brain couldn’t care less about who the owner was. 

Sometimes, when someone from the team made a comment of how better their weapons would be if they were capable of doing certain things, Tony’s brain worked at the speed of light to visualize how he could make those improvements possible, and he developed them. That was alright, he didn’t mind carrying out those ideas, he enjoyed improving things, and helping others during battle by providing them with more powerful and useful weapons was always kind of fulfilling. 

The problem was when the idea that had grown in his brain was something Tony wasn’t willing to do, something he didn’t want to carry out, because no matter how much he tried to get rid of that thought, the more he ignored it, the bigger it grew. 

Steve and he were OK now. It had been weeks since their fight and reconciliation, and everything was just going smooth. Some harmless arguments from time to time – Tony had been too reckless during battle, Steve insisted on senseless bonding activities, Tony wanted to skip a checkup, Steve denying Tony coffee until he ingested something more nutritious – but nothing out of the ordinary. Steve had worked hard on making up to him, and Tony had appreciated it. 

No more feeding, no more bathing, no more reading a story to bed, nothing that could be considered childish in the slightest. Nothing that could give an indication that Steve was still trying to get him into age playing. Not even the topic had been brought up. Steve had respected Tony’s decision of not wanting to give it a try, and Tony was more than fine with that. 

Except Tony was afraid he wasn’t, not really. 

In spite of himself, Tony frequently wondered how it would be like. How it would be like to have a father who truly worried about him, who cared about his wellbeing and happiness, who gave preference to his needs and likes, who could be completely trusted. How it would be to let himself be a kid, because Tony had to face it, he was never really given that chance. And yes, he was aware of the fact that he wasn’t a kid anymore, and Steve was the furthest thing of being a father, but, that was the whole point of roleplaying, wasn’t it? Pretending to be someone you weren’t in real life, and Age Play was just that, a form of roleplaying. 

However, Tony couldn’t just go to Steve and tell him he had changed his mind after how he had reacted, could he? He knew Steve had been more than willing to play a father for him, but what if he had changed his mind too due to Tony’s outburst? Or what if Steve hadn’t and Tony’s curiosity turned out to be just the result of having an unfulfilled idea in his brain, and after trying it he discovered he didn’t like it after all?

No, if things were good between them, it was better to leave them like they were, it wasn’t worthy to cause another fight for something Tony wasn’t even sure he was going to like. So, forgetting the whole situation would be the best thing to do. 

A shame his brain wasn’t good at letting things go just like that. So, Tony wasn’t really the one to be blamed for what he found himself doing days later, his fixation was. And he couldn’t really control it. 

 

 

Although Tony tried to think nothing of it, he couldn’t help noticing how often Steve hung out with Clint. Of course that was nothing out of the ordinary, Steve started to spent time with Clint way before Tony and he began dating. And, to be honest, Tony couldn’t even tell if Steve was spending more, less or the same amount of time with Clint than prior their fight, though that wasn’t really the point of the issue. What intrigued Tony was what Steve and Clint were doing when being together. 

Sparring, watching TV, having lunch, playing video games, Tony had always known there wasn’t any mystery on what they did. Steve wasn’t really known for liking to do thrilling things, and even if Clint liked to go crazy every now and then, Tony was sure Steve kept him in line. But that was before Tony found out about Age Play, and before he knew Clint was into it. 

So now, Tony couldn’t help wondering to what extent Steve was involved in the whole thing. Did Steve found out by accident? Did he interact with Clint when he was age playing or was it something just between Clint and Phil? Did he look after Clint? Did he play with him? Did he read Clint to sleep? There were some many things Tony liked to know, and he hated that, because that meant he hadn’t really gotten rid of the idea of giving it a try like he was supposed to. There still was a part of him that was curious about it, and his curiosity grew bigger every time Steve went to look for Clint. 

Tony might have as well asked Steve to clear up his doubts, but that would make him believe Tony was reconsidering the whole situation, and Tony didn’t want him to think that. Again, it might be just his desire to satisfy his curiosity of what the Age Play was like, and Tony might not end up liking it, so it was better not to bring up the topic with Steve. There had to be another way to find the answers to his questions which didn’t involve Steve.

What his brain came up with wasn’t something Tony felt particularly awful for doing. 

There were security cameras all over the Tower, in every single story. It wasn’t like they were there so that Tony could spy on their guests – when he had installed the cameras, he hadn’t even known he would have the Avengers living under his roof – but rather than detecting uninvited people and keeping a watch on some of his inventions which sometimes tended to wander around the building. It would have never come to Tony’s mind to use them to invade his friends’ privacy, because that was exactly what he would be doing if he looked at what Steve and Clint were up to through the cameras. 

At the beginning, Tony was emphatically determined not to make use of the cameras for that purpose, and focused hard on trying to think of something else he could do. But as days went by, that seemed to be the only option and temptation became harder to resist, until one afternoon Tony finally succumbed, finding himself having JARVIS show him on one of the screens placed in his workshop what Steve and Clint were doing. Five seconds, enough time to see they were simply training, and Tony had JARVIS vanish the footage, feeling extremely guilty for violating their privacy and promising he would never do it again. 

What did Tony expect to see? Steve bottle feeding Clint? It wasn’t even a fact that Steve was a part of Clint’s Age Play! Though Tony’s brain didn’t seem to be able to understand that, and a couple of days later, he broke his own promise, getting JARVIS to display the images of what those two were up to once more. And another time after that one. And some others more. 

To ease the vast burden all that was causing on his conscience, Tony never looked the footage for more than five seconds. He knew that didn’t exonerate him from the guilt, what he was doing was undoubtedly incorrect, but that somehow reaffirmed his excuse of being doing this solely because that was the only way his own mind wouldn’t drive him crazy. 

But of course, there was a day when Tony couldn’t bring himself to ask JARVIS to turn the screen off. Or rather, a night. Steve hadn’t been in their bedroom when Tony had gone there well into the night, which made him wonder where Steve could be, since it was incredibly rare he went late to bed when not being in a mission. Tony thought about not making too much of a fuss about it and go straight to bed, and he would have done that, if his brain hadn’t reminded him about the possibility of Steve being with Clint. 

And of course Steve was there. 

Both of them were fast asleep on the couch in Clint’s living room. Steve was leaning on the back of the couch with his head hanging down in a way that Tony knew he was going to regret it in the morning, while Clint was curled on Steve’s lap against his chest, a hand clutched to Steve’s t-shirt. Without being able to take his eyes off the screen, Tony flopped down on his bed, his mind a complete mess. 

The fact that Clint was hugging a stuffed animal to his chest and wearing what clearly looked like a diaper wasn’t what unsettled Tony, but rather the fact that Tony had to refrain himself with all his might from going down there, a strong desire of occupying Clint’s place taking over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know what Tony was doing wasn't really correct, but he's a human being after all and he can err too.
> 
>  
> 
> Saw any mistakes? Please let me know, I'll truly appreciate it :)


	11. Chapter 11

Jealousy, it had to be jealousy. How else could Tony explain why he hadn’t been able to get rid of that mental picture of Clint snuggled on Steve’s lap? 

Yes, that must be the reason. It was the first time Tony saw Steve being so close to someone else in what Tony considered an intimate way, so it was understandable Tony felt uneasy about it. He had wanted to go where they had been and take Clint’s place because Steve was his boyfriend, and that closeness was supposed to be shared just with your partner and no one else. 

But that didn’t mean Tony thought Steve would cheat on him. Tony wasn’t going to deny the whole Age Play thing was a bit unusual, and if someone else had seen the scene he saw on the screen, that person would have certainly thought there was something else going on. And Tony’s thought process might have led him to the same conclusion over time thanks to that habit of his of turning everything over in his mind countless times. However, besides the fact that Tony couldn’t imagine Steve and Clint having that kind of relationship, the other footage he saw made sure his mind discarded that idea. 

The following morning, when Steve had failed to show up in their room, Tony couldn’t help wondering if he still was with Clint. After an internal struggle whether to invade their privacy or not, Tony succumbed yet another time and had JARVIS show him what was happening in Clint’s living room. 

Steve had been there indeed, and stayed there for most of the morning. He cooked breakfast – bananas, strawberries and waffles that were arranged in a way the plate seemed to have two ice-cream cones on it, plus a huge milkshake – and made sure Clint ate it, having to chase after him all over the living room before Steve finally managed to settle him on his lap and feed him. Apparently, Clint’s mischievous behavior increased considerably when being in what Tony had read was called Little headspace. 

Although what caught Tony’s attention was not the way Clint had acted, but the way Steve had. How patiently he had treated Clint. How lovingly. How he hadn’t reacted in a bad way when Clint refused to sit down at the table. How he had managed get Clint to help him clearing the table by turning the task into a competition. How he had entertained Clint until Phil finally showed up. How he had put up with Clint’s bratty behavior without looking frustrated or annoyed in the slightest. How natural this seemed to be for Steve. How this daddy role suited him.

Yes, if Tony hadn’t seen that morning scene, he would undoubtedly come to think his jealousy was the kind one experienced when it was suspected one’s boyfriend might be romantically involved with someone else. But that wasn't Tony's case. 

Tony was jealous, yes, he had no doubt about that. But he was also sure Clint himself wasn’t the one he was jealous of, but his little counterpart. 

Well, he'll be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was a rather short chapter, I know. Next one will be longer, I promise.


	12. Chapter 12

Tony was willing to give Age Play a try. OK, no, ‘willing’ wasn’t the most accurate term. He _wanted_ to give it a try. That was pretty much decided. It was a possibility Tony ended up not liking it, but it was also probable that if he didn’t let himself experience what the whole Age Play thing was like, he would never get that peace of mind he desperately looked for and needed. 

Now the issue was how to address the matter.

Going straight to Steve to tell him about his curiosity seemed to be the best thing to do. Or it had seemed, because Tony had already blown that chance. After the huge commotion he had caused when Steve attempted to get him into age playing behind his back, Tony couldn’t just tell Steve he had changed his mind, could he? No, Tony didn’t think that would be a good idea. Besides, he didn’t even want to imagine how that conversation would go. What was he going to say? _I want you to be my daddy_? Tony shuddered at the thought of him saying that. It would be too embarrassing.

So, after thinking it over in his mind for a few days, Tony decided that the other best way to proceed in this situation was hinting Steve at his eagerness to find out if this kind of role play could work for them. If Steve got the hint and played along, Tony would have avoided an awkward conversation; if not, well, he really didn’t know how he would react if Steve had lost interest in it – especially if Steve kept somehow interacting with Clint when he was Little – but he’ll cross that bridge when came to it. 

A shame Tony hadn’t really realized how oblivious Steve could be.

\- - - -

“Coming to bed two days in a row? Something very bad must’ve happened,” Steve pointed out when Tony entered their room. “You either burned your brain due to overuse and an unhealthy lifestyle, or you burned down your workshop during one of your experiments. And because you forbade Dummy using any extinguishers, he couldn’t put out the fire and now you have no place to hide,” Steve speculated. 

“Ha, ha, ha.” Tony faked a laugh, throwing a pillow to Steve’s face, but the latter caught it before it hit him. Damn super soldier reflexes. 

“No, seriously, what happened?” Steve asked as Tony sat down on the bed next to him, voice a bit worried, “are you sick or something?” he placed a hand on Tony’s forehead which Tony pushed away almost immediately. 

“Of course not, I never get sick,” Tony assured. Steve rolled his eyes at him. It was obvious that Steve wished to refute that statement, but he refrained himself from doing so. That topic never led to anything good.

“So, what happened? Are you really here to get some sleep?” Steve asked, still sounding a bit startled. 

“What? You don’t want me to be here or what?” Tony snapped. 

“No, of course I do! It’s quite comforting to wake up in the middle of the night and hear you snoring from the other side of the bed,” Steve said seriously, but the smile making itself known in the corners of his mouth let Tony know he was mocking him. He roared with laughter when another pillow was thrown at him.

“I don’t snore!” Tony alleged, eyebrows furrowing together. 

“You do,” Steve assured, “and to be honest, I find it astonishing you don’t sleepwalk, sleep talk or something else considering your atrocious sleeping habits.”

“JARVIS, can you tell mister liar here that I don’t snore,” Tony asked, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Actually, Sir…”

Tony threw his hands in the air as he exclaimed, “oh, c’mon!”, before letting himself fall backwards. “I hate you,” he muttered behind a pillow. 

“No, you don’t,” Steve affirmed, “you love me.” It was true. 

“What are you doing?” Tony asked after several minutes, peeking around the pillow. 

“Reading.”

“Is… is that the book about that military genius kid who’s training by playing with video games?” Tony recalled. That had been the book Steve had read to him before bed for a few nights. Their dispute happened before Tony got to know how it ended. Perhaps Steve would continue reading it to him if Tony pretended to be really curious about it. 

“Yes,” Steve agreed without taking his eyes off the book.

“For being a book that was written for teenagers, I’ve got to admit it’s really good, it really caught my attention.”

“Yes, it’s interesting,” Steve agreed, not paying too much attention to him. 

“I thought you’d finished it by now.” Tony commented. 

“I wasn’t in a mood for reading,” Steve explained, turning the page. 

“I wonder how it ends,” Tony wondered out loud, his mind already picturing himself on Steve’s lap, leaned against his chest, listening to him while he read the words in a way he brought the story to life. Tony never told Steve, but the nights he had read to him, Tony had had such peaceful sleep. 

“Actually, I’m just starting the last chapter, I’ll lend you the book as soon as I’m done,” Steve promised. 

Not the proposal Tony had in mind at all. Half an hour later, Tony found himself with a book on his lap and a sleeping Steve next to him. 

Damn.

\- - - -

"Wow, I thought I'll have to drag you out of the workshop so we could have lunch together," Steve declared when he saw Tony stepping out of the elevator walking towards him.

"Actually, I'm starving," Tony declared. The fact that he had been staring at the clock ever since JARVIS announced him Steve had started to cook, waiting for the hour Tony knew Steve usually finished, had nothing to do with the reason why he had decided to go upstairs before Steve went to retrieve him. Except that, it kind of did. 

"That's perfect, because I made a lot of food and we're the only ones here today," Steve informed, stirring what was surely soup in a pot. 

"What are we having?"

"Noodle soup and steamed vegetable salad,” Steve replied, and he chuckled when Tony pretended he was going to be sick. Why couldn’t Steve eat like a normal person? Why did he insist on eating healthy food when there were different types of delicious junk food they could choose from? “Wipe that look off you face, I made hamburgers for you,” Steve stated, making Tony grin. 

Of course he had made a different dish for him, Steve had given up and stopped trying to convince Tony to change his eating habits a long time ago. Once in a while, he made him eat some fruits, vegetables and stuff like that, but that only happened when Tony had been depending on coffee as his only source of nutrition for days in a row. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Steve asked Tony when he was halfway through sitting at the table. 

“What?” Tony blinked in confusion. 

“You haven’t washed your hands,” Steve scolded. Tony rolled his eyes. “C’mon, you’re not eating if you don’t wash them.”

Dragging his feet, Tony walked towards the sink and turned the faucet on. What was the big deal about not washing his hands before eating? What was the worst that could happen? Getting a stomachache? How was he supposed to produce antibodies if he didn’t give his body the chance to have some germs once in a while? 

Carelessly, Tony proceeded to soap up his hands and washed them, wondering what Steve would do if he found out Tony hadn’t washed up correctly. Would he let it pass or would he do something about it? Would Steve stand behind him and take his hands in his to show him how he was supposed to wash them? Because that was what parents did when children didn’t do it correctly, wasn’t it? And Steve, unlike Howard, would surely be the kind of father who explained and showed patiently how everything is done. It would be nice to have a father like that, even if it was just pretend. 

“Lunch’s served,” Steve announced, startling Tony out of his stupor. 

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Tony babbled as turned off the faucet and shook his hands to remove the excess water, drying them off on his pants. Steve gave him a disapproving look while he headed quickly to the table. 

“What are you eating?” Tony questioned several minutes after they both had sat at the table and started to eat. He felt a bit stupid when Steve raised an eyebrow in confusion. He had already told him what he his menu was. 

“Noodle soup and salad?” 

“Oh, yeah, right, what I mean was, why are you eating that?” Tony asked. 

“Because, unlike you, I do like healthy food.” Steve commented, poking some broccoli with his fork and taking it to his mouth. 

“How can you like it?” 

“Well, once you get used to it, the taste’s quite good,” Steve commented. 

“It’s not,” Tony stated. 

“Yes, it is. Just because you don’t like it, it doesn’t mean it tastes bad,” Steve argued.

“Let me try it, then,” Tony asked, folding his arms over his chest. 

Steve looked at him skeptically. “Really?” 

“Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?” 

“Well, you’ve never asked such a thing,” Steve commented, standing up. 

In a universe where everything worked out the way Tony wanted, Steve would have approached him to pull him off the chair and made him sit down on his lap. Tony would have stayed there happily and allowed Steve feed him with some of his salad, even if he really didn’t like the taste of steamed vegetables.

Nevertheless, Tony lived in a universe where everything he planned seemed to be impossible to achieved, and instead of getting the scene he had visualized, he ended up with a plate filled with that damn salad, and an upset Steve. Tony was not going to finish what he had just been served, and Steve felt strongly about wasting food. 

\- - - -

Tony grunted loudly as he collapsed onto the couch. It was no use. No matter how much he had tried, Steve just didn’t get it. 

Everything he had tried to do to make Steve realize he had changed his mind about the Age Play had been nothing but abortive attempts. Steve hadn’t gotten any of the hints. Tony hadn’t been read to bed, he hadn’t been fed, he hadn’t gotten Steve to play with him with some drones he had especially built for the sole purpose of playing, and even the time Tony had tried to get Steve to bath him, they had ended up having shower sex. It wasn’t that he was complaining about that, but that was definitely not what he had had in mind when he sneaked in the bathroom seconds before Steve. 

Fortunately, Tony was not one to give up easily, and he still had some ideas to finally get Steve to understand what he was trying to say with his actions. 

Every time Tony fell asleep in the workshop at night, and he was extremely tired to complain, Steve took him to their bedroom. At the beginning of their relationship, Steve woke him up and walk him to the room, Tony’s arm slung around Steve’s shoulder while Steve’s arm surrounded his waist so he could support half of his weight. Then, when their relationship became more stable, Steve began carrying him bridal style, which Tony didn’t quite like, but he couldn’t deny that was better than having to walk when the only thing he wanted to do was going back to sleep so he could wake up early the next day and continue working on whatever it was that had kept him awake for several days. 

That had changed when Steve’s attempts to get Tony into Age Play started. In the couple of times Tony had fallen asleep there during that period, Steve had scooped him off the couch and balanced him on his hip like if Tony was a child. Tony had been more asleep than awake those times so he wasn’t completely sure, but he swore Steve had even bounced him a little before putting him down on the bed. 

It went without saying that that had been one of the things that had upset Tony and had made him realize there was something off in Steve’s behavior. Who would have thought it would also be one of the things he would later want Steve to keep doing. 

So, that was what Tony was going to do tonight. He was going to fall asleep in the couch of his workshop intentionally. If Steve tried to make him walk all the way to their room, Tony would complain and claim he was too exhausted to do that. And if Steve then tried to carry him as if he was a damsel in distress, Tony would squirm until Steve understood that wasn’t the way Tony wanted to be carried. 

That plan was flawless. It would surely work. 

Tony never considered of the tiniest possibility that Steve wouldn’t even show up. 

\- - - -

Steve couldn’t help noticing there was something really off about the way Tony was behaving lately. Little things that might not be considered weird themselves, however, coming from Tony, they gave the impression there was something fishy going on. 

For instance, Steve found Tony wandering around the tower several times a day instead of shutting himself in his precious workshop as he usually did. And even if Tony pretended it wasn’t on purpose, it was obvious for Steve that running into him all the time was not a simple coincidence. 

Going to bed with him almost every night, sharing meals whenever Steve ate at home, showing up on the rare occasions Steve had enough free time to sit down and watch a movie, claiming he was about to take a bath when Steve had announced he was going to do the same. Certainly those things were nothing to write home about, but then Steve remembered all the times he had had to literally drag Tony out of his workshop to make him sleep for more than a couple of hours or eat something besides coffee and junk food, and Steve was convinced the oddness of the situation wasn’t something created by his own paranoia. The fact that Tony was doing all that of his own free will spoke volumes. 

And if Steve also added the other details he had observed, everything turned even weirder. Like Tony's sudden interest in what Steve read or ate, whether he was taking a shower or a bath, where he was heading whenever he left the room where they both were, and so on. Tony had never verbalized any interest in what Steve did. With that Steve didn’t mean Tony pay no attention to him, quite the opposite actually, Steve was sure Tony knew even the things Steve wasn’t aware of himself. Although Tony’s mind was always too busy dealing with the thousands of thoughts that occurred to him that Steve was used to put up with a bit of disregard every now and then. 

So, the fact that Tony was so openly eager to know every little thing Steve did all of a sudden did take Steve aback, especially because of the look in Tony’s eyes. Whenever Tony questioned him about his activities, there was certain embarrassment, insecurity, nervousness as well as longing. But, why? 

Was Tony going to get sick? Had he done something he knew it was going to make Steve mad and that was why he was trying to be nice to him, to tone things down? Was he experiencing a mental block, exhaustion finally catching up with him, and he was just trying to distract himself? There were endless reasons why Tony could be acting like that, he never ceased to surprised Steve. Until one day, an idea crossed Steve’s mind when Tony seemed so eager to get him to play with some drones – something Tony had never done, he even disliked when Steve played catch with Dummy – Was all that was happening related to Age Play? Was it possible that Tony had gotten interested in it and wanted to give it a try? 

That would definitely explain a lot of Tony’s odd behavior, and nothing would make Steve happier than Tony changing his mind about not wanting them to try Age Play. It was nice to hang out with Clint when he was Little, but Steve still believed it would be much better if it was Tony instead of Clint. 

The more Steve thought about it, the more it seemed that was the reason and the more enthusiastic he became. Even so, he didn't dare to do anything about it. No matter how much he wished to reach for Tony and sat him on his lap to ask him and clear his doubts, he didn't. What if everything was a product of his imagination? What if his desire for babying Tony was making him see things that weren't really there? Tony would undoubtedly get livid if that was the case and he brought the topic up, and Steve was afraid another fight would have more serious consequences after what had happened. 

No, Steve wasn't going to take action. He couldn't. If it turned out Tony had changed his mind, Steve would have to wait until he said so himself. 

\- - - -

Music, there was some music being played in the distance. Tony could hear it; it had woken him up. A quick glance to the window was enough to verify it was still dark outside. Who the hell was playing music at such early hour in the morning? No, wait, it wasn’t music. Well, it was, but it was a ringtone. A cell phone’s ringtone. Who the hell was he calling him at such early hour in the morning? Did Tony have an early meeting that he had forgotten about and that was Pepper wanting to know if he was ready to go? No, Tony didn’t remember having forgotten about any meeting. 

Taking an arm out from under the sheets, Tony groped for his cell phone on the nightstand that laid next to his side of the bed and grunted when he found it and didn’t feel it vibrating even if he could clearly hear the ringtone. Although, now that he thought about it, that wasn’t his ringtone. That was Steve’s ringtone. Who the hell was calling Steve at this hour?

Was there an emergency? Was that Fury calling him? That was very unlikely, if any of the Avengers was required for a mission, Fury had JARVIS notify them, since sometimes they didn't hear their phones ring – especially Clint. 

"What up?" Tony heard Steve slurring, finally picking up the phone. Tony kept his ears open so he could hear who was on the other end of the line, and the silence that reigned in the room let him make out Phil’s voice. "Yes, yes, no. I’m awake now. It's OK, don't worry, I really don’t mind, I'll check on him," Steve finished saying, his speech getting clearer.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked when he heard Steve ending the call and felt him getting up from the bed. 

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Steve said, putting some pajamas bottoms on.

"Where are you going?" Tony insisted as he sat up. 

"I need to go and check something, don't worry about it, go back to sleep, I'll be right back," Steve promised, and Tony knew he was lying. 

There was just one reason why Phil would call Steve at that hour: checking on Clint. And If Phil wanted Steve to do that was because Clint was in his Little mindset, and even if Phil would like to be the one when Clint slipped into that headspace, a mission or a SHIELD matter had to be preventing him from arriving home. Steve wouldn’t leave Clint alone if that was the case, he would stay with him during the rest of the night to look after him, and wouldn’t return to their bedroom until Phil came back. 

Tony didn't want that to happen. He understood why Steve would do that, but he didn't want him to anyway. He wanted Steve to stay and look after him the way he looked after Clint. He wanted Steve to realize once and for all how much he craved for that kind of attention. It was selfish and unreasonable, Tony wasn’t going to deny that. Clint was Steve’s friend, as well as his, and he needed Steve. They were not going to do anything bad, so there was no valid reason for Tony to want to stop Steve from going downstairs to Clint’s floor. 

But Steve was walking towards the door, and he was going to leave him alone, and Clint was going to have what Tony had been craving for. It wasn’t fair, not according to Tony. 

"No!" Tony yelled, smacking a hand over his mouth right away. It was too late, Steve had already stopped and turned around to look at him. 

"No?" Steve echoed, a confused look on his face. "Is there something wrong?" Tony shook his head effusively. "Why did you say _no_?" he insisted.

"Nothing, I- I just... I think I'm a bit sleepy," Tony lied. 

"No, you're not. Why did you say no? What did you mean?" Steel kept questioning, walking back to the bed and stopping right in front of him. 

"Nothing, really." 

"Then why are you looking away?" Steve pointed out, and Tony wasn't even aware he was doing that. Although he couldn't make himself turn his head to look at him either. "Tony," Steve called him with that tone of voice that served as a warning sign. 

Tony’s hand twisted nervously into the sheets, unsure of what to do. Why had he shouted like that? What was he supposed to do now? Should he tell Steve what was really going on inside his head, or should he keep hoping Steve eventually get what his intentions were? He couldn’t, not right now. Besides the fact he hadn’t really thought about what to say, Steve had to go and check on Clint. 

But then Tony took quick glance to Steve’s face, and he knew that any attempt to lie wouldn’t be well received. 

“Don’t go, I don’t want you to go with Clint,” Tony admitted, slurring and talking so softly he was sure Steve couldn’t have heard him if he had been someone else. 

“What?” Steve sounded stunned, “Why? You already know why I’m going to look for him,” he admitted, like if that statement explained the pressing necessity about why he had to leave. 

“That’s why… I thought I didn’t want it, but now I’m not sure, I mean, I’m sure, I _do_ want it, but I’m not sure I’ll like it once I try it, I don’t even know if you still want to, maybe you don’t even want to anymore, or you do and I try it and I don’t like it, so everything might be just worthless, so it may be not a good idea to give it a try, but I don’t really want to be left wondering how it would’ve been like,” Tony managed to babble all in one breath. 

Steve tilted his head, a motion that indicated he hadn’t understood anything. “What? I seriously couldn’t get any of what you just said,” he confessed. 

“What you and Clint do, but you and me,” Tony blurted, eyes fixed on the floor like if it was the most marvelous thing he had ever seen. He didn’t want to see Steve’s reaction. Any sign Steve showed, no matter how insignificant it was, that he wasn’t willing to try Age Play out anymore was going to increased his embarrassment greatly. 

Without any warning, Tony felt two hands on his sides, and before he could do anything but squeal in surprise, he found himself sitting sideways on Steve's lap, hands clutching to the fabric of his t-shirt just for the lack of having something else to do with them. 

“Tony, do you want me to be your daddy?” Steve asked bluntly. He could be too straightforward when he wanted to. 

And Tony didn’t know whether it was because Steve was taller and broader than him, or because of his current position, or because of the word Steve had just articulated, but all of a sudden, Tony felt incredibly small and unable to give verbal answers, so he just nodded shyly. Steve didn’t hesitate to hug him, and Tony couldn’t have been gladder for that, since he could literary feel his face turning red. 

“You and I both need to work on our communication skills,” Steve informed after several seconds, “it’s more than obvious that we still are terrible at communicating.” Tony couldn’t refute that. Both of them had complicated everything unnecessarily. Had they talked about what they wanted since the beginning, things might have gone smoother. “I really have to go and see how Clint’s doing, if he’s alone too much time, he’s going to hide in the vents and he’s going to get scared because they’re too dark and will refuse to move until either Phil or me go and get him,” Steve said. Tony would have found the scene of Phil and Steve trying to coax Clint to go out of the vents funny if he hadn’t been to mortified because of Steve’s departure. 

“No,” Tony denied when Steve tried to push him away for him, throwing his arms around his neck to refrained him from going away. 

“I really have to go sweetheart,” Steve affirmed, apologetically. Tony felt his face even warmer because of the endearment Steve had just used. “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, and we’ll talk about this, but right now I do have to go with Clint, can you let me go?” he pleaded, and Tony shook his head even if his embrace loosen considerably. 

Carefully, Steve pushed him back to the bed, pulling the covers up once Tony’s was lying down. “Try to go back to sleep,” Steve suggested, leaning over to press a kiss on his forehead before getting up from the bed, leaving Tony with a strange but somehow comforting tingling feeling in his stomach. 

Tony was tempted to ask him not to go, but he had reached his limit of doing embarrassing things for one day. It didn’t take long for fatigue to overcome him, and he was fast asleep soon after, a tiny smile visible on his face. Steve had just tucked him in, and Tony couldn’t deny it had felt nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as promised, this chapter was longer :p
> 
> I reached the part for the Age Play, finally XD. 
> 
> Let me know what you think about this chapter :)
> 
>  
> 
> If you saw any mistakes, please please, let me know, I'd truly appreciate it :3


	13. Chapter 13

“I don’t know what to do,” Tony confessed with a tiny voice, looking away. He couldn’t look at Steve in the eyes, not when he was sure his face was as red as a tomato. He had colored up as soon as Steve had brought up the topic. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assured, rubbing his thumb against the back of his left hand. Every time they talked about something serious, Steve insisted on keeping some sort of physical contact, arguing it was important. Tony didn’t completely agree with that, but he couldn’t deny either that Steve’s touch was always comforting. 

“But–” Tony trailed off, failing to translate into words everything that was going on inside his head. 

There was no turning back. Tony had accepted and agreed to give Age Play a chance. However, it was one thing to say you would do it, it’s another to actually carry it out. 

For a couple of days, Tony avoided Steve, turning to his favorite way of escape: hiding in his workshop and claiming he had too much work to do. Steve let him be, but this morning he had cornered Tony when he had gone upstairs to get some coffee, and Tony was unable to make a getaway – not for the lack of trying, of course.

It wasn’t like Tony was backing out, he just didn’t want to have _that_ conversation. In a way, he would prefer just to go straight to the practice and skip the awkward chat, but he knew that would never happen. Steve liked to talk things out so they both were in the same page and there weren’t any misunderstandings – something Steve should have done when all this started, but OK, that topic was already forgotten. 

“Just tell me what things you want to do, and leave the rest to me,” Steve encouraged.

That was the problem. Tony had no idea what he wanted to do exactly. He didn’t even know what age he would pretend to be. A kid didn’t seem like the right fit for him, though he felt a bit uneasy when he imagined himself as a baby. Perhaps a toddler like Clint? 

“I don’t know,” Tony muttered. 

"Well, is there something you wouldn't like to do?" Steve wanted to know. Tony shook his head as an answer, feeling worse. If this was something that had been running through his mind for a while, he should have at least an idea of the things he would like to try. Apparently, all the research he had done had been in vain, he felt extremely clueless. "Hey, relax, it's OK," Steve soothed, surely noticing how tensed Tony's body was getting. "C'mon here," Steve asked. 

Slowly, Steve took his hand and pulled him with the intention of getting him to stand up. Tony refused, shaking his head effusively. Steve waited for a few seconds before pulling again, but Tony kept resisting, he really didn't want to look at Steve's face. It was until the third attempt that Tony allowed Steve to pull him closer, and that sensation of feeling very small took over him again when Steve made him stand between his legs. 

"Look at me," Steve ordered gently, hands holding Tony's wrists. "C'mon Tony, look at me," he repeated. Tony hesitated a bit before turning his eyes up, his head still down. "There's nothing wrong with not knowing what you want, OK? I asked you just in case you have something in particular in mind, but it's OK if you don't," Tony said nothing, "we can figure out together what suit us better, don't you think?" Steve questioned, and gave Tony a slight squeeze with his legs to let him know he wanted an answer. Tony nodded. "So, please take it easy, this is supposed to be relaxing, you shouldn’t stress out," Tony nodded one more time. "Can I hug you?" Steve asked, though Tony found himself being pulled into a hug before he could reply, half-sitting on Steve’s lap. 

“I still don’t know what I’d like to do,” Tony acknowledged, face hidden in the crock of Steve’s neck. 

“Do you trust me?” Steve questioned with a tone of voice that gave Tony the feeling Steve doubted what his answer was. Tony pulled away just enough to be able to see his face, brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you?” 

“I do,” Tony responded, certain that a nod wouldn’t suffice this time, a verbal answer was required. 

“Would you let me be in charge? I’ll plan a play day and we’ll do different things,” Steve suggested, “we can have a safeword so that we can stop if you’re not comfortable with something,” Steve hurried to say when Tony’s mouth tugged into a faint frown. 

It sounded like a good plan. That way Tony wouldn’t have to beat his brain out trying to figure out what he was supposed to do or how he was supposed to behave. Tony had read a lot about Age Play, but Steve had more experience in this area, surely the time he had spent with Little Clint must have taught him a thing or two. 

“OK,” Tony agreed, and he couldn’t help smiling shyly when Steve grinned happily.

“It’s a deal then,” Steve declared, gathering him into a tighter hug this time. “You don’t have to worry about anything, baby. Let daddy take care of everything.”

The blood rushed to Tony’s cheeks yet one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, I know. Another short chapter. But I guess I do like it that way, otherwise, it's more difficult to find the time (or energy) to write. Besides, the longer the chapter is, the lazier I get and I don't check for spelling and things like that n_n'
> 
> I promise there will be some actual age play in the next chapter n_n''''. Sorry if it's going a bit slow, but I don't want to rush things, if I do, I think it wouldn't be believable.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think.


	14. Chapter 14

“Today,” Steve had told Tony when he kissed him goodbye before leaving for SHIELD’s headquarters. Tony still didn’t understand why Steve insisted on updating Clint’s mission reports, nor how Clint had managed to fall _that_ behind with them. “I’ll come get you.”

It hadn’t been necessary for Tony to ask Steve what he had meant by that. It was quite obvious he had referred to the play date they both had agreed to have a few days ago, the one Steve had promised to organized. Nevertheless, Tony wished Steve hadn’t said that, because he had been a bundle of nerves since Steve left, anxiously wondering what would happen once he came back. 

Had Steve planned something exceptional, or was he aiming for something simple for the first time they were going to give Age Play a try? Steve was not one to squander money, he barely used the credit card Tony had given to him, arguing he had everything he needed there in the Tower. However, when it was about Tony, Steve wanted to spare no expense. Therefore, if Steve showed him he had installed a complete playset in one of the unused floors of the Tower, Tony wouldn’t be surprised. 

That made Tony feel more anxious, because he could clearly picture Steve doing that, and Tony had no idea how he was supposed to act if there was actually a playground. Would he be able to have fun and play on the swings and other equipment Steve had assembled, or would he feel too self-conscious of the fact he wasn’t a real kid and he shouldn’t be acting like one? Would Steve get disappointed if the latter happened?

Tony shook his head as if that would help him to get rid of those thoughts. He was giving this matter a lot of thought, which only stressed him and that was exactly what he had promised Steve he wouldn’t do. Besides, even if Steve wouldn’t hesitate to go all out for him, he was also the kind of guy who liked to keep things simple, so he might not have done any of the extravagant things Tony was imagining him doing. Steve might have as well planned something more mundane like watching a movie together, so Tony was getting all distressed for nothing. 

“Sir, do you want me to run the test again?” JARVIS asked him. Even if it wasn’t technically possible, Tony could sense some annoyance in the tone of JARVIS’s voice. Perhaps this wasn’t the first time the A.I. asked that question. Unfortunately, Tony was finding very difficult to concentrate. He got the feeling he had been staring at the hologram in front of him for a long time, and somehow he wouldn’t be able to say what was he working on if someone asked. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Tony said, clueless about that test JARVIS was talking about. 

It had already started to get dark outside. Around four hours had passed since Steve had left, and Tony hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him. Not even a phone call or an instant message. How many freaking reports hadn’t Clint made? Tony felt more and more nervous with every passing minute. At this rate, JARVIS might kick him out of his own workshop if he continued losing focus. 

“Are you working on a watch?” Steve asked from where he was suddenly standing over him, startling Tony into falling out of the chair. When the hell had Steve arrived?

“Crap,” Tony exclaimed, wincing as he rubbed his butt. 

“Jesus, Tony, are you OK?” Steve hurried and squatted down in front of him, scanning his body looking for injuries. 

“I’m OK, relax,” Tony replied a bit grumpily. He appreciated Steve’s concern, though it sometimes was a little annoying too. Tony might not be as strong as Steve, but he wasn’t a weakling either. 

“Leave it to you to always manage to hurt yourself in your own house,” Steve commented, standing up and holding out his hand to help Tony get up. Tony didn’t hesitate to accept it. 

“Well, I wouldn’t if you didn’t appear out of nowhere all the time,” Tony complained.

“I knocked,” Steve defended himself. 

“Knock harder,” Tony ordered a bit grouchily, not knowing exactly why he felt moody all out of the blue. 

“Looks like someone needs a nap,” Steve suggested as he smiled fondly at Tony. 

“I don’t need a nap. You can’t even take naps at night! If you haven’t noticed, it’s night already,” Tony pointed out.

“Well, then, looks like someone needs an early night,” Steve corrected as he waved his hand in order to get JARVIS to vanish the hologram of the watch Tony had been supposedly working on. “Let’s go upstairs, I think you’ve worked enough for the day, or for the week, I haven’t seen you for more than five nights,” Steve commented nonchalantly even if Tony could tell there was certain scolding hidden in his words. 

"But," Tony was ready to argued when Steve hurried and placed a finger over his lips, indicating him he was not going to take any of that. 

"Shhh, you’re clearly tired. Tomorrow you can continue working on whatever you were working this afternoon, but right now we're going to go upstairs, Daddy's going to give you a nice bath, get you ready for bed, feed you some delicious dinner, so you can go right straight to bed all relaxed and with a happily satisfied tummy," Steve informed, his eyes fixed on Tony's. If there had been a slight doubt whether Steve was carrying their play date out or not, this cleared it. "OK, baby?" he asked, though Tony knew Steve wasn’t giving him an option. Not really.

"OK," Tony agreed, surprised of how tiny his voiced had sounded. 

Seriously, what was this sensation of feeling pretty small whenever Steve said the word _daddy_? Was this how it felt to be in a little headspace? It couldn't be, Tony wasn't even sure if he was going to be able to slip into such a headspace. Perhaps it was just embarrassment caused by being self-conscious of how odd all this could actually be, his boyfriend was referring to himself as his _daddy_ and the lack of sexual innuendo threw Tony off. 

"Let's go then," Steve suggested. He turned around after holding Tony's hand and walked towards the elevator. 

That weird feeling increased when Tony was made to walk behind Steve, as impossible as Tony knew it was, Steve looked somehow bigger than usual when looked from that perspective, making Tony feel even smaller.

\- - - -

"What’s the matter sweetheart? Didn't you like the toys Daddy picked up for you?" Steve questioned, pushing a rubber duck closer to him. Tony stared at it, not really knowing what to answer.

He was enjoying the bubble bath, he truly was. Steve had undressed him, helped him into the bathtub, scrubbed his body and washed his head with such patient, care and affection that it hadn't been possible for Tony not to love it. By the time Steve had finished, Tony had been more than ready to go to bed, so he had gotten a little taken aback when, instead of taking him out of the bathtub, Steve had retrieved some bath toys from a washbowl Tony hadn’t noticed before and put them on the water. 

"Don't you wanna play a little bit before we leave?" Steve proposed, still encouraging him to take the rubber duck. Tony grabbed it, but did nothing but stared at it. "Maybe the toys I chose are not appropriate for your age, huh? Perhaps I should’ve bought some for bigger kids?" he wondered with a slightly disappointed tone of voice while he put his elbows on the edge of the tub and looked at Tony. 

Guilt flared in Tony’s stomach, he didn’t want to disappoint Steve. It wasn't like he hadn't liked the toys. There were some pretty good ones that had caught his attention, like all those pipes and cogs building toys that suction to the wall and made different things when water was pour into them. The problem was Tony didn't know what to do with them. That is to say, he obviously knew toys were meant to be played with, but was he supposed to do something he had never done in his life? 

When Tony was a child, he had barely had toys. Whether it had been because Howard hadn't allowed it or because his mother had been too busy dealing with other things to realized his son didn't have anything to play with, Tony didn't know nor care anymore. Besides, it hadn't really mattered that much, by the time Tony could have cared about not having anything to entertain himself with, he had been sent to boarding school, where maturing was indispensable and toys didn’t help with that process. 

“The water’s getting cold,” Steve announced after he plunged a hand into the bathtub. “Let’s get you out of here or you’re gonna end up getting sick.” 

Steve plunged his hand more and he must have pulled the plug because the water began to drain as he stood up, eliminating any intention Tony might have had to refuse leaving the bathtub until he had at least tried to play a little with the toys Steve had chosen and bought for him. Wrapping a towel around Tony’s shoulders, Steve helped him to stand up and used the same towel to dry him off as fast and carefully as possible.

“Is there something wrong?” Steve asked when their eyes met. Tony said nothing, but he turned his head towards where the bath toys laid in the now empty bathtub. That gesture had been enough for Steve to understand his mortification, “Hey, baby, it’s OK, if you didn’t like them, we can go shopping together and buy something you like,” he suggested. 

Tony would have liked to explain him that hadn’t been the issue, but Steve had pulled him into a hug right after, and Tony couldn’t help to melt into his body. Steve’s touch had always had the power to calm him down almost immediately. Maybe later Tony would confess Steve he didn’t know how to play. 

“Let’s go,” Steve said. 

Without warning, he picked up Tony and balanced him on his hip, wrapping an arm around his waist and a hand supporting his butt. Tony squealed in surprise, it was the first time Steve carried him like that while being completely awake and Tony was embarrassed to admit it was kind of scary. He threw his arms and legs around Steve’s neck and waist, feeling stupid. If Steve let him fall, Tony wouldn’t get hurt seriously – Steve was tall, but not that much – though the floor looked unusually far from up there. 

“Easy, baby, Daddy got you,” Steve soothed, tightening his embrace. Tony hid his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, not wanting Steve to see the blush that had surely appeared on it. Seriously, why did that word uneased him that way? “We’re going to get you dressed and then we’re going have dinner while we watch a movie. There are some that look really good, and JARVIS assured me you haven’t seen them,” he informed on their way to the bedroom.

After all, Steve hadn’t planned anything out of the ordinary, that certainly took a load off Tony’s mind. Having dinner and watching a movie was something Tony did know how to do, so the chances for him to keep disappointing Steve for not acting the way he was expecting him to would be non-existent. Tony might even be able to relax, because he had to face it, he hadn’t been able to get rid of all the tension that he had accumulated during the afternoon.

Lost in thought, Tony realized they had reached the bedroom until Steve was putting him down on the bed. And just when Tony was thinking about loosing up a little, his body stiffened abruptly upon seeing what was laying right beside him: a diaper. A cars patterned diaper that looked too big to fit a child. 

“There’s an animated movie I want to see, JARVIS showed me the teaser and it does look fun, I can’t believe you haven’t watched it considering its about robots,” Steve commented, as he pushed him gently at his shoulders, encouraging to lay down. Tony refused. 

Wearing diapers had not been discussed, Tony had never agreed to wear diapers. Yes, there was the fact that they hadn’t actually discussed anything, when Steve had asked Tony about what he wanted to do or not to do he had been clueless. Thus, Steve wasn’t really overstepping any boundaries. There weren’t any. It had been decided that they would try different things until they found something they both liked and enjoyed, and if there was something Tony dislike, he was more than free to use the agreed safeword. 

However, even if Tony doubted Steve would make him wear the diaper if he refused, its presence meant Steve wanted him to wear it. How could he refuse now after the fiasco of the bath toys? Tony couldn’t. Another disappointed look on Steve’s face would be too much. 

“Is there something wrong, baby?” Steve questioned, sensing Tony’s reluctance. Tony shook his head hesitatingly. 

When Steve removed the towel and made him lay down, Tony felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. It was stupid, Steve had seen him naked hundreds of times, Tony was even sure Steve knew some parts of his body better than himself, so he couldn’t understand why he was feeling this embarrassed. Even so, Tony groped for a pillow and buried his face into it as soon as he found it. He just couldn’t face Steve right now, not when he was busy unfolding the diaper that he would soon put on him.

“Take it easy, baby,” Steve soothed.

That didn’t help to ease his anxiety or shame at all, because right after Steve said that, he lifted Tony’s hips and slipped the diaper under him.

“I’m almost done,” Steve informed, and Tony wished he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really necessary, not when he was well aware of everything that was happening, not when he could perfectly feel how his thighs were gently pushed apart so the diaper could be pulled up and smoothed in place. “All done,” Steve said, patting the side of his now diaper covered bottom. Tony felt like crawling under a rock and die. “Can you look at me, please, sweetpea?” he asked. Tony shook his head in a way Steve could see the motion even if his face was still hidden behind the pillow. 

Steve didn’t insist, and Tony couldn’t be more grateful for that. He wasn’t sure how, but he would have to find a way to live with his face pressed into the pillow, because there was no way he could take it off. There he was, laying on a bed completely naked except for a diaper his boyfriend had put on him. Just the thought of it made his face feel on fire all over again. 

“I know you like cars, that’s why I chose them,” Steve commented as Tony felt how the mattress sunk beside him, irrefutable sign that Steve had sat down, “but if you prefer another design, there are plenty you can choose from,” he proposed. 

Tony felt a tingling sensation on his stomach when Steve placed a hand on it that made him jump a little, but soon it turned into a soothing caress as Steve began to rub his thumb around his belly button, clearly being careful not to tickle him. That was good, the last thing Tony wanted right now was Steve to start blowing raspberries on his abdomen.

Good grief! Steve had blown raspberries several times over the last months, so he might do that to try to cheer him up. Tony’s body tensed up one more time.

\- - - -

“Aren’t you hungry, baby?” Steve asked so close to his ear that Tony couldn’t help shuddering slightly. Tony shook his head as his fingers curled harder into the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt, just in case the latter decided to stand up despite Tony’s negation. “That’s not possible. I’m sure you didn’t have anything for lunch, you must be hungry,” he claimed, his embraced tightening. 

Truth be told, Tony was a bit hungry. But going to have some dinner meant they both had to get up from the bed and Tony didn’t want to leave his current place. 

After a lot of persuasion, Steve had managed to remove the pillow from his face. Tony hadn’t last too much without covering his face though. As soon as Steve had pulled him into a sitting position and manipulated him into a t-shirt, Tony had curled into a little ball and hid his face behind his arms, realization hitting him hard. There had not been any pants or shorts in sight, which could only mean that Steve planned to leave him just in a t-shirt and diaper. A diaper that had proved to be crinkly and thick enough to not go unnoticed, but far from being as uncomfortable as Tony had thought. 

“We have a pretty little shy baby here, don’t we?” Steve had commented fondly as he returned to his place, sitting next to him. When it had been quite obvious that Tony wouldn’t be lured out of hiding this time, Steve had lifted him and placed him on his lap, where Tony had hidden his face against chest. 

They had been there for who knows how long, Tony had lost track of time. 

“C’mon, let’s get something to eat and then we can cuddle as much as you want,” Steve suggested, pressing a kiss against his hair. 

“No,” Tony mumbled.

“I’m sorry baby, but I can’t let you go to bed with an empty stomach, you have to eat something,” Steve apologized. 

Before Tony could do anything about it, Steve had stood up with him in his arms. Like the last time, Tony did his best impression of an octopus and embraced Steve with all his limbs, face well hidden in the crook of his neck. 

“Take it easy, there’s nobody but us,” Steve soothed when Tony’s gasped. Steve had opened the door of their room and was heading outside. Tony was going into the kitchen wearing just a t-shirt and a diaper. If somebody saw them, there would be nothing he could invent to explain his current attire without having to admit this was something related to Age Play. “And I asked JARVIS not to let anyone in without authorization,” Steve assured. 

That, and the reassuring hand rubbing circles down his back, helped to ease the anxiety, but not completely. Tony was sure his lungs temporarily forgot how to do their job correctly while Steve passed the living room on his way to the kitchen. 

There, Steve had to manage to heat up the dinner using only one hand, since the other one was supporting Tony, who refused to let go during the process. 

\- - - -

Tony glanced back and forth between Steve and the bottle he was holding up very close to his face, clueless of what to do. Well, he did know what he had to do, he knew he was supposed to open his mouth and let Steve get the nipple inside. What Tony didn’t know was whether he wanted to suck from a bottle teat or not. 

After a lot of coaxing, Tony had agreed to let himself be fed with some veggies (Steve's word, not Tony's) and some chicken nuggets that had undoubtedly been meant for kids – Tony didn’t recall seeing adults eating animals-shaped nuggets ever. The only thing Steve had allowed him to grab with his hands had been the sippy cup filled with apple juice. A sippy cup which Tony hadn’t been too keen to use, he was perfectly capable of drinking from a normal cup and he was sure there were plenty of cups with childish designs among the ones Steve could have chosen from. 

However, Tony was still determined to please Steve by giving a try to whatever he proposed. Therefore, Tony ended up drinking from it, being internally thankful that, at least, Steve hadn’t gotten him a bottle. 

Indeed, it had been too soon to claim victory.

Once dinner had been over, they moved to the couch in the living room, which made Tony’s face burned one more time. The living room was directly connected to the elevator, so, if anyone decided to pay an unexpected visit, one of the first things they would see would be the sofa where both of them currently were. Tony knew JARVIS wouldn’t let anyone in without their authorization, but he couldn’t help feeling nervous. His mind played tricks on him, making him see the doors of the elevator opened when they actually didn’t. That was why he kept hiding his face against Steve chest, and no coaxing had been able to force him out of his hideout this time. 

It had been until the movie that Steve had gotten JARVIS to play sounded interesting enough that Tony decided to look at the screen in front of them. That had been the moment when Tony had seen the bottle laying all innocently on the coffee table, and after a little while, Steve had leaned over to reach for it. 

“Open up, baby boy,” Steve asked, brushing the nipple against his lips. Tony’s body tensed up for the umpteenth time that day. “It’s warm enough to drink now, if we wait more, I’ll have to heat it up again.” Tony looked up at him, and had to look away immediately, inexplicably uncomfortable under Steve’s affectionate expression. 

Hesitantly, Tony opened his mouth. He was already wearing a diaper, so drinking from a bottle wasn’t any better or worse. Shortly, a silicone teat settled on his tongue, but Tony didn’t suck until Steve gave him an encouraging squish. His taste buds detected delicious strawberry flavored milk, unconsciously making him continue sucking and swallowing. Some milk spilled down his chin at first when he sucked harder than necessary, but soon he got the hang of it. Tony didn’t know whether to feel proud or mortify about that. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Steve said, leaning over to kiss Tony on the brow before lower him back a bit until Tony was almost completely supported by Steve’s arm against his back. “You’ve been so good, daddy’s proud of having such a good boy,” he praised. The burning in Tony’s face was back in full force, though Tony doubted his face had had any shade but red during the entire evening. 

Brushing another kiss over his forehead, Steve focused his sight on the movie played before them. Tony followed, though he was certain he wouldn’t be able to tell what the movie was about if anyone asked. His mind was too concentrated on the fact that he was laying on Steve’s lap, wearing a diaper and drinking milk from a bottle. 

The mortifying thing was that, besides the understandable amount of embarrassment that entailed, Tony felt alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a lot of time to update. Life's been too stressful lately (My students had been just awful, but the parents are the ones that get on my nerves most of the time) and I just haven't been in a mood of writing. 
> 
> At the begining I thought going straight to diapers and bottles would be too rushed, but then I figured Steve had been wanting this for a while, and he certainly wants Tony to be a baby, not a toddler, so, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't hesitate to go for what he wants. And Tony being OK with that? Well, if Steve had asked for his opinion, Tony might not have agreed to diapers and bottles just out of shame, but besides the fact that he does want to please Steve, deep down he enjoys those things too. It would take him a little while to figure that out, though. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think :). And please point me out any horrible mistakes you'd seen u.u


	15. Chapter 15

Steve made shushing sounds while he got off the bed as carefully as he could, the less the mattress moved the higher the chances of Tony not waking up would be. He was a light sleeper, and after all the sleepless nights he had had, the least Steve wanted was waking him up. Tony stirred a little when Steve covered him up with a sheet, but his eyes never cracked open. 

This was the fourth time they had a play date, and Steve was still finding it hard to believe it. After the fight they had had when Tony found out about his interest in Age Play, Steve had truly believed that had been it, and he was more than willing to forget about the matter if that was what Tony wanted. It had been such a big surprise when Tony admitted he was curious about it too. 

A much bigger surprise when Tony had allowed him to be in charge of everything taking into consideration his intolerance of uncertainty. And Steve was totally taken aback when Tony played along with everything Steve suggested. 

At the beginning, Steve had thought about taking it slowly, restarting with the things that he had already done when he was trying to get Tony into Age Play. Steve knew from the start he wanted Tony to be a baby, not a toddler like Clint, but he doubted Tony was going to be so keen on giving that a try. So, taking it little by little would help the idea to sink in Tony’s mind. 

However, Steve had ended up doing things differently. What if Tony changed his mind and backed out before getting the chance to experience the whole thing? Steve would have certainly felt disappointed, since he was sure that Tony would like it. It was better to get over and done with it. And fortunately, his plan worked.

Tony had looked quite troubled when faced with the diapers. His expression had clearly showed that he hadn’t been expecting Steve to go that far during the first day. For a moment, Steve had even thought he was going to use their safeword, but he didn’t. A bit hesitantly, he had consented to be diapered, and then fed with a bottle. Tony hadn’t refrained Steve from doing anything. He was even sleeping with a pacifier in his mouth and a teddy bear in his arms after age playing for just four times. It just proved how genuinely Tony wanted this as much as Steve. 

What worried Steve was how embarrassed Tony got every time they played. Tony’s face acquired a red shade as soon as he was diapered, and didn’t disappear until he fell asleep. Don’t get him wrong, Steve had always thought Tony looked extremely cute when he blushed, and if Tony had that reaction when he was wearing a diaper and hugging a stuffed animal tightly, well, Steve just wanted to cover him with kisses. The problem was that, while Tony was embarrassed, he refused to do anything but hide. 

So far, all play dates had been pretty much the same. Steve retrieved Tony from his workshop, fed him, bath him, and right after Steve put a diaper on him, Tony went on ashamed mode. Steve had to spend a lot of time coaxing him to stop hiding behind whatever Tony had gotten his hands on. And that only last for a few minutes, because Tony would latch onto him as soon as he had the opportunity, so tightly that there was no way Steve could detach Tony from him without feeling remorseful. 

It was okay, it wasn’t like Steve was complaining. He loved cuddling with Tony and he didn’t really mind spending a few hours doing that. But that didn't mean that was all Steve wanted to do. The fact that Tony hid like that meant he wasn’t comfortable with all this yet. He was still getting stressed by the situation and he was supposed to be doing the opposite. 

Tony would never be able to explore his little side like Clint did if he continued with that behavior. Because, contrary to what Tony believed, Steve was sure Tony could achieve that little mindset too. If Tony didn’t slip into it may be due to unwillingness or lack of knowledge of how to do it, Steve couldn’t really tell. The only thing Steve was sure of was that, as long as Tony continued getting practically inert as a result of his embarrassment, he wouldn’t enjoy their play dates as he was supposed to. 

Steve had to do something about it. He needed to find a way to make the idea that this was okay sink in Tony’s mind. Something not very easy to do, it would be easier to make Clint start writing his own reports on time than convincing Tony to take something as acceptable when his mind already thought it wasn’t. Otherwise, Steve wouldn’t be able to get rid of the feeling that Tony was still doing this just because it was something Steve wanted. And Steve surely didn’t. 

“'teve,” Tony called, breaking Steve’s train of thought. Shoot! He had gotten up to go and wash the dishes from the dinner, and he had gotten distracted watching Tony sleep. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Steve asked as he stood in Tony’s field of vision. Tony would never admit it, but he felt uneasy every time he woke up and didn’t see him around when he knew Steve was supposed to be there. 

“I... I need–,” Tony trailed off.

“You need what, baby?" 

“Bathroom,” Tony said with a tiny voice. Even if the lights were off, Steve would tell Tony was getting embarrassed again by the way his hands were fidgeting under the covers.

“Oh,” Steve expressed, already walking beside Tony, “you know, you could use your diaper baby, daddy wouldn’t mind changing you,” Steve suggested, and he wasn’t surprised when Tony shook his head slightly. Without saying anything further, Steve leaned over to put the sheets down and proceeded to remove the diaper. 

Tony might not have fussed about wearing diapers, using them, on the other hand, was a totally different story. First of all, his play dates never last too much, they began late in the evening and everything went back to normal by the following morning, so Tony didn’t spend too much time diapered. And if Tony needed to empty his bladder, he would inform Steve so he took the diaper off and Tony could pee in the toilet, ignoring any comment Steve said about how perfectly okay it was to use the diapers the way they were meant to. Steve remained positive anyway, at least Tony didn't remove it by himself without telling him. 

“Go, sweetheart,” Steve prompted once Tony was half naked from his waist down. He held Tony's hand and pulled to help him stand up. Tony ran to the bathroom, and Steve could hear the unmistakable sound of someone peeing almost right away. 

“Don't forget to wash your hands!” Steve said as he rolled the diaper he just took off from Tony. Even if it wasn't wet, Steve liked to use a fresh one when he re-diapered him. He might as well avoid the trouble and change to pull-ups until Tony decided he was ready to make the transition – if he ever did – it would be certainly save Steve time and effort, but he figured it would just discourage Tony more. The more realistic everything was, the better.

“Did you wash your hands?” Steve asked when Tony reemerged from the bathroom. Tony nodded shyly while he pulled his t-shirt trying to cover himself. What for? Steve didn’t know, he had seen him naked more times than he could remember. "Then let's go back to bed," he suggested, stretching out his arm so Tony held his hand. 

Steve led Tony to the bed and without further delay, he pushed Tony gently until he had his back against the mattress. Knowing what would happen next, Tony hurried to hide his face behind his teddy bear, but did nothing to refrain Steve from diapering him. 

“Can you look at me sweetheart?” Steve asked once he was done, and couldn’t help feeling a bit shocked when it only take Tony a couple of minutes to peek over the teddy. "C'mere, daddy's gonna help you get back to sleep," he said, arms wide open. 

Yes, Tony was struggling. He wore diapers without using them, he held the toys without playing with them, he sucked on a pacifier without letting that action to be soothing, he accepted Steve as his daddy without daring to call him like that. But Steve knew Tony would eventually get comfortable enough to do all those things. Steve just needed to be patient and supportive. 

That mental image of him chasing Tony while he giggled uncontrollably still looked agonizingly far. Nonetheless, having his baby melted into his embrace while he rocked him back and forth to make him fall asleep helped Steve realize that, even if it took Tony a long time to arrive to the stage Steve wanted him to be, he would undoubtedly enjoy the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for your kudos and comments, they do cheer me up! :D
> 
> Second, well, I guess I'm still keeping it slow, but I do think Tony needs time to come to terms wih everything. Steve would surely keep encouraging him, and pushing him to go beyond his comfort zone, but not that drastically. 
> 
> Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it.
> 
>  
> 
> Saw any mistakes? Please let me know :)


	16. Chapter 16

Steve tiptoed out of the room to avoid waking Tony up, Pepper had come very early and had dragged Tony to some meetings he was supposed to attend to, which meant Tony hadn’t gotten much sleep. Normally, Steve made sure Tony went to bed early the night before a meeting – getting him out of bed when he had barely slept a couple of hours was an odyssey – but Tony had totally forgotten about said meetings and Steve had never been notified about them. 

As carefully as possible, Steve closed the door and sighed with relief. When Tony had come back, he had been cranky and on the edge, and even if his eyelids dropped with exhaustion, Tony had been unable to fall asleep. Steve had had to give him a long relaxing bubble bath and rocked him back and forth for over thirty minutes before Tony could finally driff off to dreamland. Dealing with a fussy Tony was something Steve didn’t mind at all, he even thought Tony was kind of cute when he was a bit moody, but as much as Steve wanted to look after his baby and spend time with him, he preferred Tony to sleep. 

“Let me know if he shows any signs of having nightmares,” Steve asked JARVIS on his way to the living room, still tiptoeing. He would watch some TV and be very quiet until Tony woke up. Then, they could have some quality time. 

“My pleasure, Captain,” JARVIS answered. “Just one thing Sir, Agent Barton is asking for permission to be given access,” he informed just after Steve had sat down on the couch. “Should I let him enter?” 

“Clint? Did he tell you what he needs?” Steve questioned. If his memory served him correctly, they didn’t have anything planned for the afternoon. 

“No, sir. He said he just wanted to talk to you.”

Steve scratched his right temple, a thoughtful expression on his face. It was no secret for Clint and Phil that Tony had ended up agreeing to age play with him, and Tony was aware of the fact that they both knew. Even though, Steve doubted Tony would be thrilled if either of them showed up in their private floor while he was currently in bed, wearing only a diaper and a onesie.

“Where is he?” Steve said, his mind still unsure of what to do. If Clint just wanted to hang out, Steve would just need to explain him the situation and suggest to postpone whatever it was what he wanted to do for another day. Steve couldn’t go anywhere until he knew in what mindset Tony was, and having Clint there when Tony woke up didn’t seem to be a good idea either. 

“Agent Barton is already in the elevator, waiting for you to allow him into the floor,” JARVIS answered.

Steve sighed. “Let him in,” he said, getting up from the sofa and walking towards the elevator, voice hesitant. 

“Hey,” Clint greeted as the doors opened, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out,” he proposed, “I’m kind of bored.”

“Jeez, I’d love to Clint, but Tony’s taking a nap, and he wasn’t in a very good mood, so, you know, I’d like to be here when he wakes up,” Steve excused himself, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Oh, I see,” Clint said, hands fidgeting nervously, “maybe we can watch a movie while he sleeps, I’ll be quiet,” he promised, an expression on his face indicating how much he wanted Steve to agree. “Phil’s not here, and I-I’m feeling little,” he confessed with a tiny voice, an ashamed blush sweeping up his face. Steve pursed his lips. 

\- - - -

“I don’t wanna,” Clint whined, shaking his head. “I’m a big boy.” 

“I know you’re a big boy buddy, it’s just in case you have an accident,” Steve coaxed, extending a hand to Clint. He had already spread the changing mat out on the floor and had retrieved all the supplies he needed to diaper Clint, the only thing that was missing was Clint himself.

“I don’t wanna wear diapers,” Clint insisted, refusing to hold the hand Steve was offering.

“But there are not any pull-ups left.” It was true. Steve had gone downstairs to Clint’s and Phil’s floor and he hadn’t found any pull-ups. They must have run out, and Phil had been summoned to SHIELD before he had the opportunity to buy more. 

“I won’t have an accident, I promise,” Clint said. Steve doubted it. This was one of the rare occasions when Clint was behaving littler than usual, and when that happened, it was almost impossible for him to control his bladder. Steve didn’t want to deal with a fussy and cranky Clint for having wet his pants, especially when he still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do once Tony woke up. 

“I’m not saying you are, but won’t you feel better if you knew that, even if you had one, you’ll stay dry and clean?” Clint shook his head once more, “I promise to take it off if you wanna go potty,” Steve persisted. 

“Want my daddy,” Clint said pitifully, tears starting to well up in his eyes. 

Steve could feel his heart breaking in two, he hated seeing Clint cry. “Oh, sweetheart, come here, don’t cry, your daddy’s gonna be home soon,” Steve soothed as he grabbed Clint’s hands and pull him closer, guiding him to his lap. He had already gotten JARVIS to contact Phil, and he had said he would be back as soon as some rookies finished their mission. 

“Don’t wanna wear diapers,” Clint repeated, trying to quell the sobs.

“Just for a while, champ. I’ll have JARVIS order some pull-ups.”

After a lot of coaxing, and the promise of making him a strawberry smoothie and letting him have some cookies, Clint agree to lay down on the changing mat and let Steve diaper him, though a huge moue appeared on his face when he realized the diaper was way thicker that the pull-ups – or diapers – he usually wore. Steve didn’t buy regular adult diapers for Tony, he liked to buy diapers made especially for people you enjoy age playing, and, apparently, those people preferred thick and crinkly diapers. Up until now, Tony hadn’t seemed to mind. Clint, on the other hand, disliked the fact that that diaper prevented his pants to fit anymore. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Steve suggested, putting the now folded changing mat and the other supplies on the corner of the couch, just in case he needed them later. He turned his head around and tried not to smile when he saw Clint pulling his t-shirt down as much as he could to cover the diaper, but it wasn’t long enough. 

“Don’t like it,” Clint complained, scowling. Or that was what Steve thought Clint tried to do, because his pushed-out lips and pink cheeks made it look more like a pout. 

“I thought we were getting cookies,” Steve commented, and the word ‘cookies’ was all Clint needed to forget about the diaper. 

\- - - -

Little headspace, Tony had read something about it when he was doing research about Age Play. It was supposed to be a mindset in which an adult relaxed into a state of carefree, responsibility-free safety, and act of regressing into a childlike state. The problem was that Tony hadn’t really read anything about how to slip into such a mindset, nor how one knew one was already there. The triggers were supposed to be different for everyone, as well as the sensation. 

At the beginning, Tony doubted he would be able to get into such a state of mind, but the more Steve and he age played, the more Tony wondered if he was already slipping into a ‘little headspace’ without realizing it. There were certain clues that made Tony believe that, like the fact he felt inexplicably small when Steve began using terms of endearment and baby talk; or he didn’t feel like talking and preferred to use signs and gestures to communicate; or that he was more than okay with letting Steve do most things for him when he usually preferred to be self-sufficient. Also, there was the fact that Tony experienced an inexplicable uneasiness when he woke up and Steve was nowhere to be seen. 

“Steve,” Tony called, blinking several times to get rid of his blurry vision. 

Why did he have to feel this anxious? It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up and find the other side of the bed empty. Steve’s and his schedule hardly ever matched, Steve was a morning person and preferred to go to bed early, and Tony, on the contrary, liked to work well into the night and sleep during all morning – if he ever went to bed. Therefore, Tony should be used to it.

“Steve?” Tony repeated as he sat up and yawned behind his hand. Perhaps Steve had gone to the bathroom. Tony went as quiet as possible so he could hear any sound coming from the bathroom, unconsciously hugging his teddy bear to his chest when the silence told him there was nobody else in the room but him. 

Could Steve be in the kitchen? Maybe he had gotten hungry and had gone to fix himself a sandwich of something, or a bottle for him. Should he go and look for Steve, or should he stay on the bed and wait for him to return? Tony stared at the door for several minutes, and couldn’t help feeling a bit mortified. What was the matter with him? Why couldn’t he make up his mind whether to leave the room or not? The kitchen was just some feet away, he could perfectly get out of the bed and walk there. 

“Steve,” Tony couldn’t help calling for him again, his voice sounding tiny even if he tried to speak louder. Still not answer. 

With a nervousness he still couldn’t understand, Tony swung his legs off the bed and stood up slowly. After he was sure he could keep the balance, he walked towards the door. Or rather, he waddled towards it, the diapers that Steve put on him were thick enough to widen his gait a little, preventing him from walking normally. His cheeks heated up, that only made it impossible to ignore the fact that he was wearing a diaper. He wouldn’t have this problem if Steve was there to carry him as he usually did whenever they age played. 

Taking him more time than it usually did, Tony reached the door. The feeling that he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to accompanied him while he walked down the hall, which was stupid. It was his room, it was his floor, it was his Tower, so he could do as he pleased. And if Tony wasn’t supposed to leave a room without notifying Steve, well, then Steve should have been there when he awoke. 

“Wait a minute,” Tony heard Steve saying when he was few inches away from the living room. Those were good news, Steve hadn’t left. He might have gotten bored and had come outside to watch some TV while Tony slept. He hastened his steps, the urge for being cuddled by Steve becoming impossible to quell, and Tony would have run towards him instead stopping dead if Clint hadn’t been standing right between Steve’s legs, struggling to get away.

“I’m clean,” Clint whined, squirming while Steve tried to wipe his face, "I wanna watch the movie."

"And you are, just let me clean your face, your daddy’s going to find out you drank a smoothie if I don't and he's gonna be mad," Steve reasoned. 

Why was Clint there? Wasn't Jarvis supposed to denied all access when Steve and he were in the middle of a play date? Or had Steve been the one who had let him in? Why? Tony might not have cared that Phil and Clint knew what Steve and he were doing – after all, they were into the same thing anyway – thought that didn’t mean Tony was willing to hang out with them. Not yet at least. 

"That's it, you can go," Steve announced, giving Clint a playful smack on his behind when he turned around to go and sit down on the floor in front of the TV. His diapered bottom. 

Oh.

It must have been one of those days when Clint hadn't been able to help slipping into his little headspace and Phil hadn't been around. He tended to look for Steve, as being little while he was by himself was not a good idea. Besides, Steve turned out to be a good babysitter. 

Tony felt paralyzed. He wanted to leave, he wanted to go back to his bedroom and get changed, he didn't want Clint to see him dressed with that piece of clothing Steve had put on him that only babies wore, he didn't want Clint to see him wearing a diaper. Yes, Clint was wearing one too, but still. So, Tony ordered his body to turn around and his legs to take him away from there, but the only thing he did was emitting a choked sob he didn’t know where it had come from. 

"Tony?" Steve called, startling him a little. "Hey, hey baby, it's okay," Steve soothed, placing a hand on his forearm. When had he gotten closer? 

Without further notice, Steve slid his hands under his armpits and scooped him up. Tony tensed, and let go of the teddy bear he hadn't realized he was still holding so he could cling to Steve. No matter how many times Steve did that, Tony’s brain refused to understand he was not going to fall. 

"No," Tony said with a tiny voice when Steve turned around and began to walk back to the living room. 

"It's okay baby, daddy's here," Steve coaxed, cupping the back of Tony's head. Tony hid his face in the crook of his neck, and felt relief when Steve continued walking until they were in front of the windows, not to the couch. "It's just Clint, he's feeling little too," he explained once he noticed the reason behind Tony's uneasiness. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony could see how Clint turned his head to look at them at the mention of his name, and stare at Tony. However, the TV seemed to be more interesting than Tony, because just a few seconds later, Clint focused his eyes on the screen once more. 

\- - - -

"Come on, sweetheart, open up," Steve pleaded, moving closer the fork he was holding up in front of Tony's face. Tony shook his head, and hid his face against Steve’s chest. "They're chicken nuggets, you like chicken nuggets, don't you?" Tony shook his head once more, lying.

"Uncle Steve," Clint called.

"Yes, sport?" 

"I want more," Clint asked, handing him the now empty plate. Steve huffed in amusement, Clint’s had ketchup stains all around his mouth and front part of his t-shirt. How did he always managed to get that dirty when he ate? Steve had no idea. 

“Do me a favor champ, go to the kitchen and get as many nuggets as you want, they’re on the counter,” Steve instructed. 

"Okay!" Clint said too happily as he got up from the floor and ran to the kitchen. 

"Don't run!" Steve ordered, and winced when he heard the sound of a plate clattering to the floor. Good thing that he had served Clint lunch in a plastic plate. 

Steve sighed deeply, and he hoped Clint didn’t burn down the kitchen while being there. There was a reason why Phil never took his eyes off of him, when Clint was little, he tended to be more mischievous than normal. Once, Steve had put him down for a nap, or at least he had thought he had done that, because twenty minutes later when Steve had gone to his room to check on him, he had found Clint sitting on the floor in front of the wall, painting on it with some crayons. 

“I’m okay!” Clint yell from the kitchen. Steve should have gone with him to make sure he didn’t do anything naughty, but if he stood up, Tony would latch to him again and it had been very difficult to coax him into letting go enough to try to feed him. Something that wasn’t going very well either. “Come on baby, I know you’re hungry, your tummy is rumbling.” Steve returned his attention to Tony, pressing the nugget stabbed with the fork against Tony’s corner of his lips. Tony shook his head one more time. “You need to eat something, sweetheart,” he insisted.

“Don’t want” Tony refused, the words muffled, hands clutching tighter to his t-shirt. 

That caused another sigh, Steve was getting a little bit frustrated. Though he shouldn’t be, not really, Tony refusing to separate from him and to eat wasn’t even close to a worst-case scenario. 

Steve had been very nervous imagining what would happen once Tony woke up and saw Clint there. His heart melted when Tony appeared in the hallway, rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding his teddy bear with the other; but then a feeling of dread sank into his stomach when he saw Tony’s expression. Getting mad, yelling at him, refusing to continue age playing, kicking Clint out, those were some of the many things Steve had imagined happening, so it had been a kind of relief when Tony just panicked and clung to him. 

“Yes, you do baby boy, come on, let daddy feed you,” Steve persisted. He nuzzled Tony’s head with his nose, and _loved_ the way Tony leaned into the touch. “They’re gonna get cold,” he warned.

“No,” Tony kept denying. Steve pressed a kiss to his temple, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of him being mad. 

“Clint? What are you doing? Come back now!” Steve ordered. For someone who had gone just to retrieve a few nuggets that were already served, he had taken too much time. “Clint? Clint?!... Seriously Clint, if you are trying to flood the kitchen again I’m not going to talk your daddy out of grounding you,” he assured, easily standing with Tony’s weight in his arms. 

“No,” Tony whined, disturbed by the sudden change of position. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but I have to check on Clint,” Steve apologized, patting his bottom. Tony always grunted when he did that, though Steve was sure Tony found those pats comforting.

Steve crossed the living room in a few strides, and he got a bad feeling when he couldn’t spot Clint as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. Had Clint gone away? Where? He wasn’t supposed to leave the room by himself when he was little without the permission of Phil or him. Unfortunately, little Clint wasn’t very good at following rules, so Steve wouldn’t be surprised at all if he had indeed left. 

A sob coming from the other side of the kitchen island stopped Steve from going to look for him somewhere else. Steve walked around it and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw Clint sitting on the floor with the jar of cookies that Steve had hidden in the highest spot of the cabinets in front of him. Sometimes it was very easy to forget that Clint wasn’t a real toddler and he could reach for and find things very easily. But if Clint had found what he wanted, why was he crying?

“What’s the matter, sport?” Steve wanted to know. 

“I-I… I wa-want… want da-daddy,” Clint stuttered out, pulling the front of his t-shirt as much as he could, trying to cover his diaper. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve sympathized, realizing what had happened. 

Having accidents was one of the things that usually made Clint cry. 

\- - - -

“If you hadn’t been so concentrated on looking for the cookies I told you not to eat, you would’ve realized you wanted to go potty,” Steve scolded, though his tone of voice was anything but angry. Clint ignored him, still sobbing behind the cushion he was pressing against his face. 

Steve proceeded to remove Clint's diaper, or that was what the sound of the tabs being unfasten informed Tony, because he wasn’t really looking. Steve had spread his changing mat on the floor next to the sofa where he was currently seated on, but his eyes were fixed on the TV. If he couldn’t stop hiding behind a pillow when he was being diapered, looking someone else during the same process was kind of weird. Besides, Tony didn’t want to exchange glances with Steve. He was mad at him for pushing him away even if Tony had made clear with his whines that he didn’t want to be detached from him. 

“Sorry baby, but Clint needs me right now, and I can’t change his diapers with you in my arms,” Steve had apologized, though it hadn’t been enough to erase the frown from Tony’s face. 

Clint’s presence didn’t bother him as much as he had thought. Tony would probably avoid him for the next couple of days, after all, wearing a diaper in front of him was embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as it would have been if Clint hadn’t been wearing – and using – one too. However, what did bother Tony was the fact that he was still there. 

Why hadn’t he gone back to the bedroom and gotten changed? Tony was certain that Steve wouldn’t have stopped him. Then, what the hell was he doing there? Why the hell did he insist on clinging to Steve? It was true that, even if he couldn’t seem to understand why nor how, Tony was feeling little, but he could easily change his mindset if he wanted, unlike Clint, who seemed to be deep in his little headspace and do need someone to look after him. Then, why didn’t Tony do that? 

“Shh, it’s okay sport, I’m done,” Steve announced, and Tony couldn’t help looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “C’mon kiddo, look at me. I’m not mad at you, it was just an accident,” he declared, caressing Clint’s abdomen affectionately. 

“W-want d-daddy,” Clint sobbed against the cushion. 

“I know sweetheart, I know you do,” Steve said, sounding a bit distressed, “and I’m sure your daddy will be here soon, but right now you’ll have to settle for uncle Steve.” 

Ignoring Clint’s weak groans, Steve slid his hands under his armpits and scooped him up. Clint squirmed slightly at first, not happy with having been taken out of his hideout, but soon Steve’s rocking and patting calmed him down. 

“It’s okay champ, Uncle Steve’s here,” Steve soothed, as he sat down on the other side of the couch where Tony was, swinging Clint’s legs up so that he was sitting sideways. Clint let out a sob, and hid his face against Steve’s chest. 

Steve tightened his embrace as he turned his face so he could look at Tony. He smiled, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to smile back, making Steve purse his lips in disappointment. Looking after two kids couldn’t be easy, and Tony understood that. It would actually help if Tony ended this nonsense, stopped pretending to be little, and helped Steve take care of Clint. But he still didn’t want to, and looking at Steve comforting Clint in such a loving way made Tony finally realize why. Tony was jealous. Steve was _his_ daddy, and he didn’t want him to baby anyone but him. It was stupid and illogical, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care right now. 

“I’m hungry, daddy,” Tony said. Steve’s eyes snapped wide open in bewilderment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking too much time to update. I've been having too much work, and a couple of days ago was my brithday and some friends insisted on going out to celebrate, which I appreciate, but socializing does drain my energy. Right now I'm supposed to be getting ready to go and have lunch with some friends who just gratuated, but I really don't feel like going out, so I sat down in front of my computer and finish this chapter.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think, and as usual, if you see any mistake, please let me know. :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't sleep yesterday, and I felt like writing, so, here's the result. Kind of a short chapter, though.

Tony curled into a small ball, hoping that position relented the waves of pain his bladder was sending through his stomach. He was bursting to go to the bathroom, and after holding it for almost an hour, his full bladder was demanding for immediate release, but Tony refused to do it. 

Ever since that afternoon with Clint, Tony was determined to play his role better. Seeing Clint while he was in his little headspace had showed Tony how Age Play was supposed to be, and he couldn't help noticing that what he had been doing so far wasn't exactly being little. Tony let Steve bathe him, feed him, carry him, dress him and even diaper him, but it was pretty much that. Without a doubt, Tony had started to feel little, a shame that feeling little and being little wasn’t precisely the same, and Tony figured that was the nub of the issue. 

And why was that? After a lot of thinking, Tony had come to the conclusion that it was his own fault. Steve was doing a terrific job as a daddy, and even it was obvious he wasn't afraid of pushing things a little, Tony was afraid they would never move forward if he didn't learn to let go, if he let Steve do everything and he didn't do his bit. 

That was what had led Tony to his current predicament. He had woken up with a strong urge to pee, and even if he had been about to wake Steve up so he took his diaper off as usual, Tony had refrained himself from doing so. What was the point of wearing a diaper if he wasn't going to use it? There was no doubt Steve wouldn't mind if he did, Tony even got the feeling that Steve wanted him to. So, Tony might as well do it. 

What Tony wasn’t counting on was how difficult it was for an adult to piss himself willingly. There was that mental barrier he needed to smash first, a little voice in his head told him peeing in a diaper was wrong, only babies or sick people did it, and Tony was neither of them. Also, there was the fact that, after years and years of ordering his body to hold it, Tony couldn’t really expect to let go just like that, he unconsciously clamped down every time he felt he was finally ready to lose control. 

So, Tony figured it would be easier if he waited until his bladder couldn't take it anymore, but it also proved to be more painful. Why did this have to be that hard? Clint had used a diaper twice that day without even realizing it. Why couldn’t Tony do the same? Why did he have to be so self-conscious about it?

Frustrated, Tony sat up on the bed as carefully as possible to not disturb Steve's sleep. Or maybe he should. Steve could help him, just as he was helping him to get used to calling him daddy. It hadn't been completely intentional, the word had slipped out before he could stop it and the jealousy he had been feeling right then had unquestionably been the one to blame. That hadn't made Steve less happy, though. After the shock was overcome, Steve pulled him into a hug and kissed him non-stop all over the face, glazed eyes showing Tony his contentment. 

From then on, Steve had encouraged him to continue calling him like that, which wasn't very easy either. Tony could feel his face on fire every time he pronounced that word, his brain stubbornly refused to accept there was nothing wrong with that. 

"C'mon sweety, say daddy," Steve would ask, lowering his face to Tony's level, "or can you say Dada? C'mon, try it baby, say DA-DA," he'd suggest, causing Tony a funny feeling in his stomach. If he felt ridiculous saying daddy, dada was even worse. He couldn’t deny the way Steve’s face light up made up for it, though. 

Perhaps that was one of the things that was stopping him. Once he used the diaper, Tony knew there was no turning back. Steve wouldn't listen to him anymore if Tony called him by his name instead of daddy while they age played, so he got the feeling he wouldn't be allowed to go to the bathroom once he showed he was okay with going in his diaper. 

But, would it be that bad? It wasn't like he was diapered everyday all the day, just when they had a play date, and sometimes those lasted a couple of hours, which meant he might not even want to go to the bathroom during that time. Tony had to try it first, if he didn't like it, he could always talk to Steve and tell him that was something he wasn't willing to do. Steve did push him, but he didn’t force him to do anything.

His bladder clenched again not happy with the hold-up, taking Tony out of his stupor. He needed to go _now_ , before it burst. Tony could stand up, maybe if he was in the position he always was whenever he peed, he could fool his brain. It made a lot of sense, Tony never went while being laid down nor seated – those few times he actually did didn’t count, he had been too drunk to stay on his feet – so that might actually help. 

Grabbing his teddy bear, Tony got out of the bed, and stayed right beside it. It had been a good idea indeed; he could feel he could actually do it this time. He pushed a bit, feeling confident, and he couldn’t help wincing at the sharp burning sensation it caused. He had been holding it for too long. Pulling his bear against his chest, he tried to relax. After a couple of minutes, a spurt of pee escaped without much of an effort, but Tony clamped down, mortified. It didn't last long, though. Before he knew it, pee began to come out unstoppably and soon a hot and wet sensation spread all over his crotch. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and curled his toes, groaning quietly when the ache in his lower regions were gone. 

"Tony?" Steve called with a drowsy voice, propping himself up on his elbows. Damn timing! Why had he woken up just now? Tony hadn't even had time to register what had just happened. "What’s the matter? What are you doing there?" he said, reaching for the lamp on the nightstand and turning it on. Tony felt his face heating up, his diaper would surely look different now that it was soaked, and Steve would definitely notice that. 

"Thirsty," Tony hurried to lie. If Steve thought he was thirsty, he would go and get him some water and Tony would have more time to come to terms with the fact that he had just wet himself. 

"Oh, it's okay baby, I'll get you something to drink," Steve offered, already swinging his legs off the bed. 

Tony sighed in relief, he didn’t feel comfortable lying to Steve, especially when he was feeling little, but it was kind of necessary right now. Unfortunately, Tony didn’t remember that things never turned out as he expected, and when he was leaning forward to get back to bed, Steve moved closer to him and hefted him up with ease. 

"Why don’t we take advantage of the fact that you’re already awake and come to the kitchen with daddy, sweetheart? You can tell me what you'd like to drink," Steve proposed, palming his behind a couple of times. Tony froze, and his stomach twisted when he felt Steve squishing his butt. "Did you… did you use your diaper?" he questioned, sounding too enthusiastic for Tony's like. "You did, didn't you? Oh baby, that's great!" he expressed, placing his hands on Tony's sides and holding him out and up as he spun, a gleam in his eyes telling Tony how pleased he was. "Daddy's so proud of you!" Tony blushed more furiously, and the way his diaper swayed didn't help at all. "Let's get you out of that icky diaper, we don't want you to get a rash, do we, baby?" he expressed as he lowered him on the bed. 

If Tony had thought peeing in his diaper was the most difficult part of all this, he had been more than mistaken. Going through a diaper change was more difficult and more embarrassing, especially when Steve didn’t cease to praise him. 

Yes, no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw any mistakes? Please let me know :)


	18. Chapter 18

Tony flopped down onto the couch, eyes fixed on the dozens of open boxes that flooded his workshop. The clean-up would be a pain. Tony might like neat and tidy places, but that didn’t mean he liked to clean. He would prefer to build a robot which get rid of the mess than tidying up himself. As a matter of fact, Tony might as well do that – after all, it wouldn’t be the first time, nobody knew but Dummy’s first task was throwing away the coffee cups, food wraps and all that got accumulated on his desk – but right now he needed to focus on the contents of the boxes rather than the boxes themselves. 

Toys. Tony had gotten JARVIS to do an Internet search to find the best rated and most popular toys all over the world so that he could purchase them. Who would have imagined JARVIS would find that many? Board games, puzzles, action figures, video games, building sets, Tony thought he even saw a scooter at some point. Next time he would have to be more specific with the A.I., because, even if Tony appreciated the effort, getting that amount of toys just make his objective harder to achieve. 

Learn how to play, that was what Tony was resolute to do. How could he be little if he didn’t even know how to play? That day, Clint had looked like he was really having fun with the race cars tracks he began to play with once the movie was over, and somehow, Tony’s mind had started to believe that if Clint could do something, so could he. 

But maybe the problem was that Clint’s toys and his were different. It was no secret that Steve wanted him to pretend to be a very young kid (if Tony still struggled to call Steve ‘daddy’, using the word ‘baby’ to refer to himself was something he couldn’t bring himself to do either), so his toys consisted of blocks, stuffed animals, stacking towers, coloring books and puzzles. Those things were definitely not striking enough for his adult brain. How could Tony play with something that his brain considered to be anything but fun?

If Tony wanted to learn how to play, he figured the only thing he needed to do was to find the correct toy. Steve wouldn’t mind if he played with big boys’ toys, would he? Tony got the feeling that, as long as he didn’t refuse to wear diapers, drink from a bottle or let himself being pampered and babied, Steve wouldn’t mind. 

“Let’s get on with it,” Tony told to himself as he got off the couch. If he hurried, he might be able to finish checking all the toys by the end of the day. 

____________

Board games were the first toys Tony set aside. The instructions said it was possible to play by oneself, though most of them did recommend two or more players. Tony didn’t see the point on trying to play with them if he didn’t have anyone to play with. Video game consoles were pretty much the same. So, the first thing Tony tried were the RC toys, and even if he couldn’t deny they were quite entertaining, playing with them felt pretty similar to what he already did with his own robots. One car even got Dum-E’s ‘dunce cap’ because it kept crashing into everything even if Tony moved the joystick of the remote control towards a different direction. 

What really caught Tony’s attention were those LEGO toys. Without exaggerating, JARVIS had gotten him more than five thousand bricks in different sets. Tony had spread all of them on the floor in front of him and, with the help of the manuals that were in their packages, he had built an entire city, including police stations, hospitals, parks, office buildings, schools, and even an exact replica of his Tower. Tony was very satisfied with the result, he had even made the cars move by themselves in the streets. Certainly, no kid would have been able to do that. And that exact thought had been the one which made him feel disappointed. 

Kids weren’t supposed to build things that impeccable. Yes, there were kids that were bright and perfectionist, and they could surely construct something similar to what Tony just had, but there was also the fact that Tony hadn’t exactly have fun while doing it. He had gotten engrossed in the task and had managed to entertain himself for a few hours, but that wasn’t the same as having fun. And that was the whole point of playing, wasn’t it? To have fun. That was why kids played. If a game or a toy weren’t fun, they just didn’t play with them. 

Tony huffed as he sprawled out on his back on the floor, staring blankly at the roof. Why couldn't he do things correctly? 

“Hey Tony, would you like to…” Tony heard Steve say, startling him out of his stupor. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even heard Steve’s footsteps as he descended the stairs. “Jesus, what happened in here? What are all these boxes?” Steve asked, looking around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

Tony didn’t even bother to sit up. “Go away,” he muttered, not in a mood of being around anyone. 

“Are these… toys?” Steve exclaimed, sounding surprised, “why do you have these many toys?”

“Bought them,” Tony said, a blank expression still on his face. He had bought dozens of toys for nothing. 

Steve crouched down beside him, “don’t you think it’s a daddy’s job to provide his baby with toys?” he asked, lips curling in that condescending smile he always wore when he was in what Tony came to recognize as his ‘daddy mode’. “Why did you buy them?” he insisted after a few seconds, once it was obvious Tony wasn’t going to answer the previous question. Tony shrugged. “Not in a talking mood?” Tony shook his head, earning a sigh from Steve. “Okay, I guess we’ll have to clean this up in silence.”

“What?” Tony expressed, propping up on one elbow to be able to see Steve better.

“Well, you weren’t planning on leaving this mess like this, were you?” Steve asked with a disapproving tone of voice. Tony groaned loudly as he let himself fall back on the floor. He should have built that maid robot before opening the boxes. 

____________

“Tha-tha-that’s… chea-that-,” Tony tried to say between guffaws.

“What was it, sweetheart? I didn’t get that,” Steve mocked.

“That’s cheating!” Tony yelled right before Steve stopped tickling his ribs just to proceed to blow raspberries against his sensible belly. 

“Cheating? Why? I’m just here minding my own business and wondering if you’re more ticklish on your feet that you’re on your tummy,” Steve commented. Tony pushed him as hard as he could, but his arms turned to jelly when Steve blew yet another raspberry. A couple of seconds later, Tony found himself squealing in between an uncontrollable laughter. 

“Du-dum-dummy!” Tony managed to say.

“What’s wrong with Dummy?” Steve faked naivety. 

“Che-chea… cheating!” Tony accused. 

“So, when the RC car, that _you_ were driving, crashed into my pile and knocked it over, that wasn’t cheating. But when Dummy throws balls at your pile, it is?” Steve asked with a frown on his face, though there was no real heat in his voice. 

Okay, Tony had to admit it, he had played dirty, so he shouldn’t be complaining. But it hadn’t been fair, Steve was freakishly strong and he could flatten the boxes with his bare hands unlike Tony, who had to step on most of them to obtain the same result. Steve’s pile of boxes had been obviously bigger than his, and Tony just couldn’t sit back and do nothing. While he was retrieving another box, the said RC car had materialized under it and the temptation had been too big not to succumb to it. Tony had taken the remote and had sent the car right into Steve’s pile.

And why were they piling up the boxes? Well, they were just not going to throw them away. Steve was a recycling freak. He recycled _everything_ , carton included. Tony still remembered the morning he stepped into the kitchen and ran into the recycling bins Steve had bought to help everyone sort the garbage. It had been very difficult to implement the habit of recycling in the Tower, but Steve had that thing of making you felt guilty in a way for not doing the right thing, so everybody ended up agreeing.

And how had Steve managed to get Tony to clean up? That was something not even Tony could explain. One minute he was staring at Steve with a ‘I’m-not-buying-it’ expression on his face while the latter pretended putting away the boxes was fun, and the next minute Tony was trying to gather more boxes than Steve, turning the whole thing into a competition without realizing it. Trying to beat Steve somehow gave Tony a rush of adrenaline, and the look on his face when Tony had dared to knock his pile down had been priceless.

“You’re losing,” Steve declared, causing Tony another fit of laughter. 

Without any warning, Tony felt how Steve slid his hands under his armpits and lifted him, and before he could register what was happening to do something about it, Steve had put him inside a box and close it. And Tony was the one who played dirty!

____________

“We’ll have to get some chests and shelves to store all this,” Steve commented, rubbing his thumb against Tony’s stomach. In front of them lay all the toys that Tony had bought, and even if they were perfectly organized, Tony couldn’t deny it would be better to store them somewhere. They might not use the guest bedroom, but Steve liked to keep it clean and tidy anyway. 

“I’m hungry,” Tony said. No matter how much he’d like to continue with the cuddles, his stomach had started to demand food a bit loudly. All the running from his workshop to the guest room had whetted his appetite. 

“Of course you are, sweetpea, you spent all afternoon making and cleaning up a mess,” Steve chuckled, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Actually, the reason why I went down to your workshop was to ask you if you wanted to go out and grab some lunch. I guess it’ll have to be dinner now,” he acknowledged, tightening his embrace after Tony snuggled closer to him. He shouldn’t be sitting down on Steve’s lap, he only did that when they were age playing, and they weren’t, not really. But if Steve didn’t mind, neither did Tony. 

“Sorry,” Tony mumbled. It sounded like Steve had had some plans, and Tony had ruined them because of the mess he had made. 

“Oh, don’t worry baby, I don’t mind at all,” Steve reassured. “I wouldn’t trade an afternoon playing with my baby boy for nothing.” He brushed another kiss now over the top of his head.

“Playing?” Tony echoed. Did Steve considered what they had done as playing? How come? They only reason they had grabbed the toys had been to take them upstairs and put them away, they hadn’t played with them at all. 

“Yes, playing. I had a lot of fun, thank you,” Steve said, a genuine smile decorating his face. 

Tony furrowed his brow in confusion. Chasing after each other, tickling and finding ways to lock the other one out of the workshop couldn’t be counted as playing, could it?


	19. Chapter 19

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Tony’s head before getting off the couch, tilting his chin to the kitchen when Tony turned to look at him questionably. Tony opened his mouth as if to protest, but after a few seconds of obvious internal struggle, he fixed his eyes again on the screen in front of them and said nothing. That surprised Steve a little, even if he wasn’t going to go far or for long, Tony had shown reluctance to separate from him during a play date. However, Steve got the feeling he knew the reason of Tony’s behavior, so he decided not to brood over that and made a beeline to the kitchen. 

Over the last thirty minutes, Tony had been rubbing his eyes and yawning constantly, and even if he stubbornly tried to focus his attention on the Play-Doh sets he was playing with while he watched the movie played on the TV, it was obvious he was tired and sleepy. Steve figured it would be a good idea for Tony to take a nap. Taking into account his horrendous sleeping habits, any opportunity to sleep had to be taken. The problem was that getting Tony to sleep was never an easy task, especially when it wasn’t nighttime, so he hoped a bottle with warm milk helped him to achieve his goal.

Retrieving a carton of milk from the cupboard, Steve opened it and poured enough of its contents to fill a bottle in a pot. Then, he placed the pot on the stove and started to heat it up. He was tempted to turn around and lean over the kitchen island so he could see Tony, but he stayed by the stove, stirring the milk occasionally. And he was happy he did, because only a few minutes later, he could spot Tony out of the corner of his eye, getting up from the floor and walking until he left Steve’s visual field. 

In other circumstances, Steve would go back to the living room to find out where Tony had gone to – Tony wasn’t the only one who experienced anxiety due to separation – but not this time. Besides rubbing his eyes and yawning, Tony had also been squirming, so imperceptibly that Steve wouldn't had noticed if he hadn't been paying close attention to him. That squirming told Steve that Tony was heading to the furthest corner of the room now, and he would stand kind of awkwardly there for a moment. Just as he had been doing lately every time he needed to pee. 

It had been a surprise, actually. Steve was definitely not expecting Tony to use his diapers anytime soon, especially not when he was clearly struggling with things Steve considered sort of trivial and easier to accomplish, like calling him ‘daddy’ or playing with toys. Therefore, waking up and finding Tony with a soaked diaper that night had taken Steve by complete surprise. A pleasant surprise. Tony was trying very hard to make this work, and Steve couldn’t be happier. 

Every new thing Tony tried allowed Steve to draw a further line to the limits. He might have called himself ‘daddy’ in the hope of encouraging Tony to do the same, though he refused to answer if he was called ‘Steve’ and not ‘daddy’ not before Tony himself had used that word for the first time. Cups and glasses were taken away as soon as Tony showed him he didn’t mind drinking from bottles and sippy cups. Cutlery stopped being placed on the table after Tony made known that using his hands or being fed was something he was willing to do too. As long as it truly didn’t disturb Tony, Steve was determined to not let him back down once he had moved forward. 

By now, Tony must have figured this pattern out and he hadn’t complained about it at all. When Steve had been a little hesitant to let him go to the bathroom days later after that particular night, Tony hadn't insisted any further. He had looked a bit distressed and ashamed, and he had waited until Steve left the room to retrieve a glass of water to use his diaper, but other than that, Tony hadn't showed any signs that indicated he had gotten mad whatsoever at the way Steve was handling things. 

But if Steve was intentionally pushing Tony out of his comfort zone, he also made sure to reassure and praise Tony every time he did something childish, however insignificant it was. Calling him 'daddy' always earned Tony some cuddles and kisses, drinking from a bottle was always accompanied by praises, and so on. Steve wanted Tony to link good feelings with every experience, since he was certain that would help him to eventually become totally comfortable with all this – the way Tony shyly smiled every time he was told he was a good boy was proof of that.

With that in mind, Steve turned the stove off and poured some milk in a bottle after retrieving it from over the counter. It was a bit too hot, but by the time Steve fed Tony with it, the milk would be cool enough. After adding a little honey, he twisted the nipple into place and headed back to the living room with the bottle in his hands, leaving the pot to be washed later. 

“Does my baby need a change?” Steve asked as he stepped into the room, startling Tony. That question was not meant to embarrass Tony or nothing of the sort. Steve hoped the tone of his voice was able to show him that, since he was trying to sound as affectionate and understanding as possible. 

Tony bowed his head and shook it almost immediately, a blush sweeping up his face, so intense it was visible even if his face was somehow hidden. 

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you lie,” Steve informed, “if you don’t need a change, how come all the rattles on your diaper disappeared?” he asked, smiling fondly when Tony started to pull his t-shirt down in a vain attempt to cover his diaper. “Come here, sweetheart, let daddy get you out of that icky diaper,” he said, walking closer to Tony. 

Steve tucked the bottle under his arm so that he could scoop Tony up, and headed to their room. There was no hesitation in Tony’s movements when he wrapped all his limbs around Steve’s neck and waist, and he even tightened his embrace after Steve whispered in his ear how much he loved him. He also grunted when Steve began to pat his behind. 

“Hold tight, honey, daddy’s gonna get the supplies,” Steve asked once he had put Tony down on their bed, patting his left tight affectionately. By the time he made it back to the bed, Tony’s face was lost behind a pillow. If Steve had thought nothing could embarrass Tony more than being diapered, he had been mistaken. Being changed out of a wet diaper could totally make him reach a higher level of embarrassment. 

With very good agility that would fool anyone into believing he had been doing this for ages, Steve proceeded to change Tony’s diaper, fighting the urge to tickle him or something of the like to avoid stretching on the process more than it was necessary. There would be plenty of time to do those things once Tony learned not to be embarrassed. 

In less than a few minutes, Steve was already lifting Tony’s hips to slide the diaper under his butt and pulling it up to smooth the straps into place after a quick dusting of baby powder between his thighs. He smiled at the pattern of the diaper, baby dinosaurs, and wonder which of them would disappear once Tony made use of it. 

Internet had proven to be a very helpful tool to find cute baby stuff that fitted Tony, and Steve made sure he got as many as possible. Tony’s face had been hilarious on the day he found that the side of the closet Steve had never filled because he refused to buy more clothes than necessary, was now full of things that Tony could wear on their play dates. 

“Come here, baby boy,” Steve said as he lifted Tony from the bed enough to place him comfortably on his lap, ignoring the groans of protest Tony emitted when Steve took the pillow away from his face. “How does this baby boy plan on drinking his bottle if his pretty mouth is hidden behind a pillow?” he crooned, kissing his nose. Tony groaned once more, but he snuggled into Steve instead of trying to get the pillow back. “You’re such a good boy, Daddy’s very proud of you,” he praised after retrieving the bottle from the nightstand and offering up the nipple which Tony latched on without hesitation. 

Steve’s heart melted when that shy smile appeared one more time on Tony’s face. It showed him how Tony was enjoying this even if he was still struggling with the idea whether this was something he was supposed to enjoy or not. 

There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that they were definitely on the right track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking too much time to update. I've been kind of busy, and then I got obsessed wth watching horror movies (which I don't like, especially because I live by myself, and get scared very easily), but that led me to rewatch IT,and then I got curious about the book since the remake is gonna be released very soon, so I spent all my free time reading the book n_n', which is pretty long!
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked it, and as usual, if you spotted any mistake, please let me know :)


	20. Chapter 20

Tony’s eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright, hands moving to his mouth to choke back a scream that never came out. Learning not to shout was essential when the objective was to prevent anyone from finding out you had bad dreams regularly, and Tony had mastered that; he had gotten very good at hiding things over the years. 

His heart beat rapidly, thick beads of cold sweat ran down his entire body, and his breathing was heavy. Typical reactions of a nightmare, Tony had experienced them way too many times to not recognize them. No matter what he did, he had never been able to avoid nightmares. And he had literally tried everything, from not eating before going to bed to sleeping sitting down. Eventually Tony gave up, due to his lifestyle they were inevitable, so Tony figured it would be a better idea to focused on dealing with nightmares rather than trying not to have them. With the help of his reasoning he could downplay whatever he had dreamed. 

His father couldn’t hurt him anymore, not when he had passed away long ago. The Chitauri wouldn’t be much of a threat once Tony suited up. The kidnappers would fade away from his mind once his brain became aware of his whereabouts. Yes, everything he saw while he was sleeping could be minimized, he wouldn’t let his brain catastrophize anything. That technique seemed to work better than trying not to dream at all, though it did have one flaw: how could you rationalize a nightmare you didn’t remember? 

The dreams that were automatically forgotten when awakening were the worst ones. Whether they were good dreams or bad dreams, it didn't matter, Tony would like to know what had caused the smile or frown on his face. Feeling uneasy without knowing the reason just made him feel worse, that make it impossible to reduce the impact. 

And because Tony's luck always sucked, that was the kind of dream he had just had. 

Anxiously, Tony looked around, trying to identify the place where he currently was. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, which meant exhaustion had been the one to blame for his loss of consciousness. When that happened, Tony could find himself anywhere – he wasn’t that twenty-year old young man who could stay awake for days in a row without repercussions. Now his body seemed to switch off out of the blue when all his energy had been burned out. Once, Tony had woken up in the shower where he had apparently fallen asleep before he had the chance to take a shower; Steve had scolded him endlessly when he found him. Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case this time. Tony was happy to find out he was on the sofa in his workshop. 

Tony began to take deep breaths as an attempt to slow his breathing down, but after endless seconds, it became obvious he couldn’t. Something was wrong. After a nightmare, uneasiness was what he usually felt, sometimes anger and disorientation too, depending on what he had dreamed. However, what Tony was feeling now wasn’t any of those things, but fear. That was definitely not right. He couldn’t even remember when the last time he woke up and felt scared was. Perhaps when he was still a kid, or maybe a teenager. And yet, right now, Tony was sure he was frightened. 

What the actual hell? How could Tony be frightened if he didn’t even know what he had been dreaming about? It was stupid. After all he had been through, being unnerved because of a dream sounded illogical. 

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Tony tried to control himself. He was in the tower, in his workshop, and there was no threat nearby – the alarm to assemble hadn’t gone off – so there was no reason to be as afraid as he was. If he had gone to bed when JARVIS had informed him he had been awake for more than thirty-nine hours, this wouldn’t be happening. He would have woken up in his bed this morning, and if he had still had a nightmare, daddy would have been there next to him ready to comfort him. 

Wait. Daddy?

Why had Tony automatically referred to Steve as daddy? He only used that word when they were age playing and after Steve’s constant encouragement. They weren’t having a play date in his moment, they hadn’t in a few days, so there was no reason for Tony to have made use of that word. He didn't even know if Steve was home! He could pay attention to what JARVIS was reciting in the background and find out where Steve was – since the A.I. usually told him his whereabouts as well as everyone else’s so help him to ease his mind after waking up from a bad dream – but how would that help? Besides, Tony hadn’t been able to get hold of himself yet, and distinguishing the words JARVIS was saying was proving to be rather difficult.

If daddy were there with him, Tony would be able to calm down more easily. 

Daddy. Again that term. 

Why did his mind insisted on calling Steve daddy? 

Perhaps because the one who Tony wanted right now was daddy, not Steve. Daddy would scoop him up, rock him, and take turns between whispering reassurances in his ears and kissing him on the side of his head until Tony calmed down. Tony couldn’t really explain why, but he was sure that was exactly what he needed right now. 

The problem was Tony couldn’t be with daddy if they weren’t age playing. Steve was the one who usually decided when to have a play date, and Tony just went along with it. Whether that was because Steve tended to choose the moment when Tony was too overtired and overworked to fight back, or because Tony was starting to enjoy it, Tony couldn’t tell yet. The only thing he knew was that it was somehow easier to let Steve make that decision. It was easier for his mind to believe someone else was prompting him to do something he still wasn’t sure he should do or not. He should like or not.

Therefore, Tony couldn't go and look for Steve to ask him to baby him just like that, could he? That would be crossing yet another line, and Tony had already gone farther than he had planned, so he doubted doing that was a good idea. It would be better to stay right where he was and wait for reason to kick in. Eventually, his brain would realize there was nothing to be afraid of and that daddy's presence wasn't required. 

Though five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. And Tony didn't seem to be able to relax. The mental picture of daddy's strong arms surrounding him, protecting him from whatever was stopping him from calming down got so sharp, it became impossible to ignore. 

In spite of himself, Tony stood up and walked towards the elevator after asking JARVIS where Steve was.

____________

"Tony," Steve expressed, clearly surprised to see him enter their bedroom. "I was about to go and see if you were still alive," he joked as he leaned to put on his shoes, though his tone of voice was falsely light. Steve had told him several times he was truly afraid Tony was going to kill himself one of these days for depriving himself of sleep that much.

"I am," Tony answered, fighting the urge to throw himself into daddy's arms. Instead, he walked towards the bed where Steve was seated on and stood next to it, awkwardly.

"Glad to see that, and I hope your plans for the afternoon include an eight-hour nap," Steve commented, "please don't make me ask JARVIS to lock you out of the workshop.” He turned his head to look at Tony, the expression on his face warning Tony he wasn’t kidding. Tony nodded a bit shyly, an answer that apparently satisfied Steve. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Tony asked when he saw Steve replacing his t-shirt with a plaid shirt. 

“Yes, I promised Phil I was going to help him train the newest agents,” he informed as he stood up and tucked the shirt in. Tony would never understand why he kept doing that. “Today’s just the welcome speech and stuff like that, you know, so I should be back in two hours, tops.” Steve walked closer to him and placed both hands on Tony’s shoulders. “I wasn’t kidding, please go to bed right now, I’m gonna call later and ask JARVIS if you’re truly sleeping. If my memory serves me right, you’ve been awake for more than two days, I know your personal record is higher, but I don’t want to come back and find you passed out due to exhaustion,” he begged, looking directly into his eyes, Tony couldn’t help looking away.

“I will,” Tony promised. 

“Okay, see you later then,” Steve uttered before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. 

When Steve removed his hands from Tony’s shoulders and walked past him towards the door, Tony felt an inexplicable lump in his throat, as if a sob was trying to escape from it. 

What the hell was wrong with him? Did he really feel like crying just because Steve was leaving? Yes, he had come upstairs because the urge to be comforted by daddy had become unbearable, but that didn’t mean he had stopped considering that idea irrational or stupid. If Steve had already something to do, he shouldn’t cancel it because Tony felt like getting some cuddles. It was just not right. Age playing shouldn’t interfere with their activities, that had been something both of them had agreed on.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked from the door, startling Tony a little. He felt his chest tightening more. 

“Tired,” Tony lied, not daring to give a more complex answer, afraid his voice would give him away. 

“Are you sure?” Steve insisted, getting just a nod as an answer. His eyebrows drew together in disbelief. “Do you want me to stay?” 

Tony shook his head, maybe a bit too fast and hard. “Go.”

A bit hesitantly, Steve turned around after staring at Tony for a few more seconds. He was going. Steve was going and leaving him alone. It shouldn’t matter, in two hours he would be back and then Tony might dare to ask him to play daddy for a while. Two hours wasn’t a long time, Tony could certainly wait. 

Except he couldn’t. 

Tony irrationally wanted daddy to hug him right now, to comfort him, to help him get rid of that annoying fear and anxiety which refused to leave him alone. He didn’t want Steve to stay, but he wanted daddy to stay. That didn’t make any sense, what the hell was wrong with him? 

“Daddy!” The words came out before Tony could stop them. He felt a sob finally managing to escape from his throat and his mortification increased greatly once his sight turned blurry. Was he really going to cry?

With a speed that made Tony believed Steve had somehow learned to teleport, he materialized in front of Tony and picked him up, cradling his head gently as he began to rock him. Tony threw his arms and legs around Steve’s neck and waist, hugging him in a way it would be painful for anyone else who didn’t have a super-soldier serum running through his veins. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy Tony, it’s okay,” Steve soothed, voice a little shocked, embrace tightening. 

But it wasn’t, this wasn’t okay. Tony was an adult and he shouldn’t need someone to comfort him after a nightmare. And yet, Steve arms around him made him feel so good that Tony couldn’t bring himself to regain his composure and send Steve away. Instead, he let Steve console him.

____________

“You’ll be late,” Tony said with a surprisingly tiny voice, and even if he was kicking Steve out in a way, his hands kept clutching his shirt.

It had taken Tony an embarrassing amount of time to calm down. Steve had ended up sitting down on their bed, where they currently continued, Tony curled on Steve’s lap, the trail of tears still fresh on his cheeks. Tony’s mind was still a mess, trying to understand what had just happened but getting distracted by Steve’s caresses. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve informed before pressing another kiss to his forehead.

“But you have to,” Tony insisted, his body tensing.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve repeated, earning a confused look from Tony.

“But Phil–”

“How could I leave knowing my baby boy needs me?” Steve interrupted him, “No, I couldn’t do that. I’ll explain Phil later what happened, but right now I’m going to help you change into something more comfortable and we’re going to bed. You need to sleep,” he said, causing Tony to blush. He didn’t have to be a genius to know what kind of clothes Steve considered comfortable in a situation like this one. 

“But...”

“I said I’m staying with you,” Steve said with determination. Tony snuggled closer to him, feeling secretly grateful. “And when you wake up, we’re going to talk about why you didn’t want to tell daddy you were feeling little,” he scolded, though there was no heat in his voice. Tony furrowed his brow in confusion. 

Little? What did Steve mean by ‘little’? Unlike Clint, Tony had never felt ‘little’, he didn't know how to. It was true he felt sort of small when he was around Steve, but who wouldn't? Steve was a tall broad man after all, Tony had gotten that feeling even before all the age play thing started. Nonetheless, feeling small and ‘little’ were two totally different things, at least in this context. 

But what if Steve was right and Tony was feeling ‘little’ for real? He had read everything there was about headspaces on the Internet, though he didn't pretend to know what a little headspace was like. Perhaps he was starting to feel ‘little’ without realizing it. That would certainly explain the meltdown he had just had, the unfounded fear he had experienced and the tremendous need of having Steve around. That would certainly give sense to everything. 

So, it turned out Tony could actually be a ‘little’, not just pretend to be. That was good news, wasn’t it? If Tony wanted this to work out, falling into that kind of headspace was essential, otherwise he would never cease to feel just like an adult wearing a diaper playing a kid. Steve might get frustrated if all this was only genuine for him. But what had just happened proved it could be genuine for Tony too. That was definitely good news then, Tony did want this to work out. 

Now the only thing Tony needed to do was get used to that little headspace, because his first experience with it had been quite scary. Tony had never needed someone as much as he had needed daddy right now, and he wasn’t sure how to cope with that. Daddy had been there today, but what would Tony do if he needed him as badly as he had now and daddy wasn’t there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I was planning on updating this on last Friday, but I had a lot of work. 
> 
> As usual, let me know if there are any mistakes, it would help me a lot :)


	21. Chapter 21

If Tony was asked to describe what a little headspace was like, one of the first words that would come to his mind would be ‘disconcerting’. 

For some reason, he had thought that once he slipped into a littlespace, his adult self would somehow go to sleep or something, and that would be when a younger version of him would go to the surface and take control of himself. That was the only way Tony could make sense of how a person could behave like he had seen Clint doing. Clint cried, had accidents, amused himself with toys, made mischiefs, and so on. No even once had Tony gotten the sensation Clint was faking it. It felt real. Tony couldn’t see that behavior happening if the adult side of a person was consciously there. 

However, now that he had experienced that headspace himself, he realized his theory had been mistaken. Tony was well aware of what was happening. He knew he was drinking from bottles, he knew he was wearing clothes that weren’t meant for adults, he knew he was using diapers, the only difference was that Tony didn’t really care about that anymore, he didn’t get mortified as he did when they had just started age playing. Every now and then Tony could feel his adult self trying to take over, still struggling to come to terms with all this, but a cuddle or a praise from Steve was enough to help Tony settle back. 

While being in his little headspace, Tony felt so relaxed, in a state of carefree and responsibility-free he had truly never experienced. It was like an infinite-floaty space that seemed boundless and filled his head with not-completely-known sensations and feelings. When Steve fed him, changed his diapers, carried him, it just felt right, it felt like that was how things were supposed to be. Tony didn’t have to worry about anything anymore, he only had to sit back and let himself be taken care of – something totally new for him, he was embarrassed to recognize. 

Steve enjoyed meeting all his needs, and Tony was learning to enjoy being looked after, that feeling of wrongness linked to that slowly fading away. 

It felt nice to know this could be as authentic as Steve wanted it to be, though Tony couldn’t deny everything was a bit overwhelming. He knew he would eventually get to the point where he was absolutely all right with accepting his little side, but there still were some things that bother him in a way. 

First, there was the fact that Tony had no idea how to go into his littlespace at will. According to comments he had read on the Internet, there were certain triggers that helped people to get into it more easily, like playing with toys, watching cartoons, wearing diapers, building a blanket and pillow fort, being baby-talked, but it was clear that those things didn’t trigger anything in Tony. He had tried. 

After that afternoon he had come to realize he could achieve such mindset, Tony had fallen into it just three more times. One after a fairly awful battle, in which Steve had scared the hell out of everybody as he had pretended to die to surprise the enemy. Another after the annual Stark Expo, which Tony always enjoyed but utterly exhausted him. If Tony also took into account what he considered to be have been the first time, everything seemed to indicate that what sent him into his little headspace was stress, experiencing strong and staggering emotions. 

That made sense, after all, those kind of mindsets were usually used as a way to relax and forget about all the problems, at least for a while. 

But then the fourth time happened, and Tony was right where he had started. There had been no nightmares, no battles, no Expos, nothing that could be considered stressful. Tony had been chilling out in their living room, drinking some coffee and catching up with the world through his tablet, delighted by the fact that he had a free afternoon – no deadlines to meet, no meetings to attend, no recovery from sleep deprivation to do, not even maintenance of his suit. He had literally nothing to do, something that happened once every leap year. And all of a sudden, Tony had felt how he began to sink into his littlespace. 

That shouldn’t be a big deal. Steve had been more than happy to end their day having a play date, and Tony couldn’t deny it had been a pleasant afternoon. The thing was that Tony still couldn’t figure out what sent him into that mindset, and not being able to control it led him to the second problem he had with all this: what if one day he felt little and Steve wasn’t anywhere around?

Due to their lifestyles, Steve and Tony spent too much time away from each other. They knew that would be something they would have to deal with when they started dating, and it hadn’t been much of an issue yet. If one day they felt like seeing the other and one of them was away, a video call solved the problem. Nevertheless, Tony was sure a call wouldn’t be enough for his little side. Steve seemed to be the world for his little counterpart, he craved for Steve’s cuddles, praises, care and attention, and the mere thought of falling into his littlespace without Steve being around gave Tony goosebumps. 

Tony wasn’t sure whether he liked that or not. There was no doubt that Steve would try to be there for him no matter what, though what truly scared Tony was how much his little side seemed to need Steve. It was like Tony couldn’t satisfy his need of him. Thanks to a weird turn of events, Tony had acquired a worthy daddy, and that idea was wonderful as well as terrifying.

What would happen if he screwed up this time too? What if Tony never achieved to be as worthy as a kid as Steve was as a daddy? Would Steve get disappointed too? What if someday he slipped into his little headspace while being in a bad mood? Steve would certainly not want to deal with a cranky and bratty kid, would he? Tony needed to find a way to control this, because losing daddy when he could have avoided it was not an option.


	22. Chapter 22

“Tony, baby,” Steve called, left hand caressing Tony’s belly gently, “it’s time to wake up sweetheart.” Tony stirred slightly under the touch, but he gave no signs of opening his eyes any time soon. 

There was nothing Steve would like more than to let Tony continue sleeping, he had fallen asleep when Steve had gone to the kitchen to prepare a bottle and that only showed how exhausted Tony had been – he hardly ever went to sleep willingly. But Tony’s nap had already lasted two hours, and if Steve allowed him to extend it more, Tony wouldn’t want to go to bed at night. Besides, Tony never got around to drinking the milk, and knowing him as well as he did, Steve was sure the only thing Tony had in his stomach was coffee. Sleeping was important, but so was eating. 

“Come on, pumpkin, daddy made some pasta,” Steve insisted, his hand now shaking Tony slightly. 

After a few more minutes, Steve’s insistence paid off. Tony began stirring, unconsciously leaning into the touch of his hand – Steve loved that – as he slowly came awake. His eyes blinked open, and for a moment he stared at Steve without really seeing him, his eyelashes fluttering several times more before he became aware of his surroundings.

“Hey, baby,” Steve greeted when he was sure Tony was listening to him. Tony’s face twisted into a pout before his eyes slipped shut again, making Steve chuckle. For someone who was always so reluctant to go to sleep, Tony sure had a hard time waking up. “No, come on sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” Steve repeated, shaking Tony a bit more. 

“No,” Tony whined as he rolled to his side, his back turned to Steve. 

"Yes, you already slept enough. Now, why don't we go and make your tummy happy by giving it some delicious pasta?" Steve suggested, stroking Tony’s back. Tony whined again while he curled up into a ball. "You can continue sleeping after you eat something." 

"No, sleepy now," Tony refused, Steve chuckled once more. 

“I’m sorry honey, but daddy doesn’t want you to get all cranky because you’re not able to fall asleep tonight.” 

“No,” Tony denied one more time, though Steve could tell by the way his voice sounded that he was more awake.

“Yes, baby,” Steve disagreed, patting Tony’s bottom over the diaper. It needed to be changed. 

Steve waited a bit more before leaning over and rolling Tony over onto his back once more. Tony moaned because of the forced change of position, but he made no attempt to get away from him. Steve stroked his thigh affectionately and got up from the bed to get the supplies he would need, a goofy smile on his face. 

Tony hadn’t left the bed during his nap, otherwise JARVIS would have informed him about it – Steve might not stay with Tony while he slept, though he always had JARVIS monitor just in case something bad happened – which meant that Tony was getting more and more comfortable using his diapers, as he didn’t have to stand up anymore to empty his bladder. That was a huge progress. Tony had certainly progressed a lot lately. 

Without being able to say how or when it had happened, Steve knew Tony had made that transition, he had passed from pretending to be little to genuinely be one. 

The proof was in the way Tony behaved during their last play dates, which wasn’t all that different from before to be honest, but it was in the details where Steve could tell nothing was he same. Like the way Tony pronounced the word ‘daddy’, it didn’t sound unnatural or forced anymore, it sounded as if the word had stopped feeling weird on Tony’s lips and now its pronunciation was full of love and adoration. Or the way Tony reached for him, he no longer waited for Steve to be the one who took the first step; Tony lifted his arms whenever he wanted to be picked up, he sat down on his lap on his own accord when it was time to eat, he snuggled into him when he wanted Steve to rock him to sleep. 

But, most of all, what made Steve sure of that change in Tony was the way he looked at him. Affection and admiration aside, there was something in his eyes that was different and was only there when Tony was little, something that Steve had previously seen in Clint’s – and that had helped to convince Steve Age Play could be something real - a certain curiosity, a certain innocence. Those big brown eyes twinkled in a way Steve have only see in children. 

That couldn’t be faked.

“It’s okay, baby, daddy’s only going to change your diaper,” Steve soothed. Tony had gotten a little startled when Steve lifted him enough to slip a changing pad under his bottom. Apparently, he had wasted no time and had gone back to sleep while Steve gathered all the supplies needed. 

With a skill that he had acquired without realizing it, Steve proceeded to unsnapped the crotch of the white and blue striped onesie that Tony was wearing, revealing the diaper underneath. All the blocks that had been decorating it had disappeared, which only confirmed the diaper was wet. When Steve undid the straps, he could see out of the corner of his eyes how Tony observed him with half-open eyes. The expression of mortification Tony usually wore whenever his diaper was changed was now replaced with one of pure curiosity, though the sight of pink blush on his cheeks continued appearing. 

Steve didn’t think that was a big deal, the fact that Tony had progressed that much didn’t mean that he had stopped being ashamed for liking such childish things. He blushed when he was being bathed, he blushed when he was drinking from a bottle, he blushed when he found himself sucking his thumb. It was understandable, Steve figured Tony’s adult side had to be struggling a lot trying to come terms with all this. Eventually, Tony would cease blushing, and Steve had to admit he would miss it. According to him, that blush made Tony looked cuter. 

“I’m sorry sweety,” Steve apologized. Tony always winced when the baby wipes came into contact with his skin, “I’m almost done,” he promised. 

Not wanting to extend the process more than it was necessary, Steve hurried to clean Tony up, tossed the soaked diaper into the trash and a put a new one on after sprinkling some powder between his thighs. By the time Steve snapped the onesie shut, Tony had closed his eyes again, and when Steve got away from the bed to put away all the supplies, Tony took advantage and rolled over his tummy, hugging a pillow tightly. 

“Sorry, baby, but it’s dinner time,” Steve said, leaning down and managing to slide his hands under Tony’s armpits so he could scoop Tony up off the bed. 

“No, daddy,” Tony complained, but he didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around his neck when Steve balanced him on a hip, head resting on his shoulder. 

“You can’t possibly be sleepy now, I think someone’s just pretending to be sleepy because he wants more cuddles from daddy,” Steve accused with an amused tone of voice as he tickled Tony’s ribs slightly. Tony squirmed a little and then Steve heard one of the most heartwarming sound he had ever heard: Tony's giggle. Not a laugh, but an actual giggle. 

Yes, there was no way Tony could fake this. 

The goofy smiled reappeared on Steve's face as he tickled Tony some more on his way to the kitchen. Things were definitely good, and as Steve saw it, they were in the point where everything could just get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I do have a lot of things to do, but I love procrastination, so I ended up writing a little instead of clearing up my desk from all the paperwork I have accumulated (which is the thing that stressed me in the first place and made me want to write, so, no regrets XD)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter even if it was kind of short.
> 
> Saw any horrible mistakes in the grammar or spelling? Please let me know.


	23. Chapter 23

Steve rotated onto his rear leg to dodge the punch Clint had thrown at him, holding his fists up in case he decided to attack again. 

“C’mon, is that all you’ve got?” Steve teased, resisting the urge to chuckle when a huge moue appeared on Clint’s face. Did he use to pout before? Steve had no idea. Maybe he did and Steve just didn’t realize it, his perspective had truly changed after he found out Clint was into Age Play. 

“Shut up,” Clint ordered, throwing another blow and missing again. 

They had been sparring for more than two hours, and even if Clint was in perfect shape, his heavy breathing indicated he was already getting exhausted. Steve, on the other hand, was just starting to warm up. The serum could be considered a big advantage during battles, but it was in situations like these ones when it was also a disadvantage, no one could ever keep up with him. 

Steve usually trained on his own for a couple of hours – at least – before he sparred with somebody, otherwise, by the time the session was over, he felt like he hadn’t exercise at all. However, Clint had been the one who had showed up in the communal living room looking for someone to train with, and as Bruce hadn’t seemed interested in that at all – he disliked to do anything that involved aggressiveness – Steve had felt obligated to go along with the proposal. It was just fair, Clint was the one who usually agreed to do anything Steve suggested when he was bored too. 

“Well, if you’re not gonna attack, I will,” Steve informed as he pivoted on his left foot and swung his rear leg forward, directly to Clint’s waist. 

Clint did nothing to avoid the kick. Steve had told him several times that tactic of his of receiving a blow just to get a better aim always fell on deaf ears, though that had somehow made him blows-resistant. Steve raised his arms more as he closed his eyes unconsciously, hoping his forearms stopped the punch Clint would surely throw now, but he opened them again when he heard something hitting the floor with a thud. 

“What?” Steve asked confused, surprised to see Clint on the floor. Was he really that exhausted, or was that just a trick? “Let’s call it a day,” he proposed, remaining alert in case Clint decided it was still too soon to stop. 

“No!” Clint refused right before he screwed his face into a grimace, teary eyes looking up at him as if Steve had betrayed him in a way. 

Confusion took over Steve, taken aback by Clint’s reaction, his brain unable to process what was going on. That wasn’t the first time he had hit Clint during a training session, and it was certainly not the hardest kick he had ever delivered either, so Clint’s sobbing made no sense. 

“Clint?” Steve called, "what's the matter?" 

"Y-you h-hit me-e," Clint accused between sobs, hands pressed against his left side. "I-i'm te-tel-lling dad-ddy."

Daddy? Steve's stomach sank straight to his toes. 

"Oh my God Clint, are you feeling little?" Steve asked, alarmed, though he already knew the answer to that question. 

Without further delay, he kneeled down in front of Clint and pull him carefully into a hug. The least he wanted was to cause him more pain. Clint resisted for a moment before throwing his arms around Steve, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, choking back sobs. 

"I'm so sorry, kiddo, I'm really sorry," Steve apologized, overwhelmed with guilt. 

Measuring himself was not something Steve tended to do when they – Clint and Tony, most of the time – sparred, after all, both of them were skilled in multiple forms of hand-to-hand combat, and were more than capable of defending themselves. But hitting any of them while there were in their littlespace was something Steve couldn’t even imagine doing without getting goosebumps. Steve would have never accepted to train with Clint if there had been the slightest chance that he might slip into his little headspace while they fought.

"Why did you ask me to spar with you if you were feeling little?" Steve couldn’t help scolding. 

"N-not li-little," Clint argued, making Steve sigh. Clint might be into Age Play, though there were some times in which he didn't like feeling little and he tried to remain “big” – as Clint’s little self referred to his adult self. Especially when Phil wasn't around. 

"Of course you’re not, you’re a big boy, Uncle Steve’s just being silly," Steve said condescendingly. "Let me take a look where I hit you," he asked. Clint shook his head, but he allowed Steve to rearrange the two of them until Steve ended up sitting down on the floor and Clint on his lap. 

Steve felt fairly relieved when he pulled up Clint’s t-shirt and the area where he had been kicked was just slightly reddened, almost imperceptible. Clint was resilient indeed. The reason why he kept crying could be due to the fact he was feeling little and Phil wasn’t around – if Phil had been, Steve was sure Clint would have told on him to Phil as soon as he kicked him – so Steve stayed right there and waited patiently for him to calm down. 

****

____________

“Sir, I know you want to make sure everything gets properly signed, but I highly doubt Ms. Potts is going to be happy when she sees you’ve signed three times the same sheet,” JARVIS commented, snapping Tony out of his stupor.

Tony looked down at the paper he was signing – when had he started staring into space? – and groaned loudly when he saw three of his signatures at the bottom. How on earth had that happened _again_? 

“Ms. Potts won’t like it either if you give yourself a concussion,” JARVIS said when Tony banged his head down on the desk, a bit harder than he had intended. “May I make a suggestion, Sir?”

“No,” Tony denied, and he was not surprised at all to hear the A.I. ignoring his answer deliberately. 

“I strongly suggest a break, Sir, perhaps spending some time with Captain Rogers will avoid you the inconvenience of having to sign everything all over again.” 

“Would you stop that already?” Tony demanded, sounding both angry and tired. “Don’t make me downgrade you to a simple personal assistant for phones.”

JARVIS had been making that suggestion every twenty minutes for the last three hours and it was getting on his nerves. Not only that meant he had been making mistakes regularly, but also that his capability of concentration was decreasing considerably, something Tony couldn’t afford to do right now. He needed to sign all those papers as soon as possible if he didn’t want to be dragged to his office – it had happened before, so Tony knew it wasn’t an empty threat – by a furious Pepper and locked up there until he had caught up with all the backlog, which usually turned out to date back a year or so.

Yet, three hours had passed and Tony wasn’t even halfway through. Maybe he should really mute JARVIS, because having the A.I. constantly telling him that he should go and hang out with Steve for a while was distracting him more and more, especially when he had been craving for daddy desperately for the last two hours. 

Without knowing how or when, Tony had noticed JARVIS had acquired an eerie ability to know when he was slipping into his little headspace. Tony wasn’t thrilled about it, because if JARVIS knew, chances were Steve would too, and he would show up soon, making it impossible for Tony to stay big. 

Tony didn’t want to be little right now. He couldn’t. But the more he tried to get rid of those mental pictures of Steve hugging and cuddling him, the harder it was to keep his little self at bay. 

“I’m afraid you’re doing it again, Sir,” JARVIS warned. 

“What the actual fuck?!” Tony exclaimed when he saw five signatures on the same sheet, the curse word feeling wrong on his tongue. Seriously, how could he space out that badly? This thing of not being able to control at will when to be little was utterly annoying. 

Perhaps taking a short break would actually work. If Tony continued like that, he would soon find himself drawing on the papers and that would definitely piss Pepper off. 

Moodily, he stood from the chair and headed towards the door, sensing how he slipped further into his littlespace, though not completely there yet. Maybe he could hang out with Steve a couple of hours, watch a movie or something, get some cuddles from him to ease his little side’s cravings. There was no real need to tell Steve how he was feeling, besides the fact that Tony wanted and needed to learn how to control this whole little headspace thing, if he told Steve he was feeling little, the chances of him going back to the workshop to finish the paperwork would be non-existing. 

What Tony wasn’t counting on was how deep and fast he would fall into his littlespace once he saw Steve. With little Clint. When he opened the door of his bathroom – where JARVIS had informed him Steve was – and saw Steve bathing Clint as the latter played with _his_ bath toys, Tony felt something he couldn’t really understand, and found himself experiencing a strong urge to cry. 

****

____________

"Clint, pleased stop moving," Steve begged, trying to catch his knees to prevent him from continuing squirming. 

"No! I don't wanna wear that! It's for babies and I'm a big boy!" Clint complained as he managed to dodge Steve again. How was Clint doing that while laying right in front of him? Steve had no idea. Perhaps he was being way too careful afraid he might hurt him again, or maybe his movements were a bit restricted by Tony, who was standing right behind him, hand stubbornly clutched at his t-shirt. 

"I know, but we ran out of pull-ups," Steve reasoned. 

"Lying!" Clint accused, and he had all the right to do so. Truth to be told, Steve didn’t even know if there were pull-ups in Phil’s and Clint’s floor, he hadn’t gone there to check. 

After that odd entrance of Tony, he had remained glued to Steve, and he had refused to let go of him no matter what. Steve didn’t really mind, there was no way he was going to leave Tony unattended, especially when he was crying; though he had to admit that dealing with Clint while he had all Tony’s limbs around him almost strangling him wasn’t easy. It had been an odyssey just to get Tony to let go so Steve could dress Clint, and Tony had only agreed to be put down on the floor, but not to get away from him. 

For that reason, Steve hadn’t wanted to go down to look for Clint’s pull-ups, Tony would have never agreed to stay put while he rode the elevator to Phil’s floor, and taking Tony out of their floor while he was in his little headspace wasn’t an option either. If Tony got all jumpy and uneasy when they were in their living room, Steve didn’t want to imagine what going anywhere else in the tower would do to Tony’s nerves. 

“I’m not, your daddy must have forgotten to restock them,” Steve lied, feeling awful for doing so. “Come on kiddo, just this time, I promise I’ll take it off if you want to go to the bathroom, just let me know.”

“Diapers are for babies!” Clint repeated, voice angry but eyes beginning to fill with tears. Steve didn’t want to have two crying littles at once. 

“Just this time, I promise,” Steve insisted, Clint shook his head vigorously as he kept trying to kick Steve away. “Look, if you’re a good boy, Uncle Steve’s going to buy pizza for lunch, how about that?” he proposed, and he would have laughed at the way Clint instantly stopped, eyes wide open in disbelief. Phil rarely allowed him to eat junk food while he was in his little headspace, arguing adult Clint already ate too much of it. So, junk food always came in handy when blackmailing Clint into behaving. 

“Promise?” Clint asked as he let Steve put his legs down on the bed. 

“I do,” Steve said, reaching for a diaper and unfolding it as fast as he could, afraid Clint might back out when he remembered Tony’s diapers had very childish designs on them and were almost three times as thick as the pull-ups he usually wore. 

“With extra cheese?”

“Of course, and all the toppings you want,” Steve conceded as he lifted Clint’s hips enough to slide the diaper under his butt, quick movements as well as careful, the least he wanted was to elbow Tony or something by accident. Hitting one little had been more than enough. 

As Steve kept agreeing to whatever crazy idea Clint came up to put on the pizza – some of them Steve was certainly not going to allow, but he saw no point on telling Clint that right now – he proceeded to finish diapering him and dressing him. A huge pout appeared on Clint’s face when he realized that the orange polo onesie and the plaid overalls shorts had been meant for him and not for Tony, but Steve didn’t have any of Clint’s clothes within reach and that outfit was one of the only ones which Tony owned – the perks of Tony and Clint having almost the same build – that didn’t look very babyish. 

“Stop that, Clint,” Steve ordered when he saw him trying to unbuckle the overalls. 

“I don’t like it!” Clint whined, flopping down on the floor a bit too dramatically, hands still struggling with the straps. Steve sighed deeply, and he decided it was not worth the trouble. Clint wouldn’t be able to unbuckle it and Steve was actually glad of that. The last time he had babysat him, Clint had thought it would be funny to get undressed and run naked all around the living room. Phil hadn’t found that funny at all.

“Now it’s your turn, baby boy,” Steve announced, turning around to face Tony. Tony shook his head vehemently, and resisted a little when Steve placed both arms on his upper arms and guided him towards the edge of the bed. “No? Don’t you want daddy to help you change into something more comfortable?” he asked, Tony had never been reluctant to let himself being changed. Embarrassed, but not reluctant. 

“No,” Tony said with a tiny voice, his eyes moving until they focused on Clint. 

Steve smiled sympathetically, kissed Tony on the forehead and pushed him gently to the bed until Tony lay down on it. Of course Tony would be embarrassed to be changed in front of Clint, but what other choice did Steve have? Sending Clint away was definitely not an option, Clint never lost the opportunity to make a mischief when he was left alone. And not diapering Tony seemed like a bad idea too; Steve was sure Tony still used the diapers at will, but what if today was the day when he had an accident for the first time? He was sure it would be more mortifying for Tony to wet his pants in front of Clint instead of wearing a diaper. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, Clint’s not going to laugh, he’s wearing a diaper too,” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear, stroking his stomach affectionately. Tony let out another sob and pull back up his jeans when Steve tried to pull them down. 

A lot of soothing and encouraging were needed to convince Tony to let himself being changed, and by the moue on his face – mirroring Clint’s – Steve could tell Tony wasn’t very happy with the navy blue and white sailor onesie Steve had put on him. But Steve had purchased it not long ago and he had already decided to dress Tony with it the next time they had a play date. 

“Shh, it’s okay sweetheart, daddy’s here,” Steve lulled, patting Tony on the butt a couple of times as he carefully leaned forward to grab Clint’s hand. Tony squealed slightly and tightened his embraced around Steve’s neck, surely afraid he might fall off his arms, but Steve’s grip was firm. 

“Don’t you want to go with me to order the pizza?” Steve questioned when Clint refused to stand up, his focus still on the straps of the overalls. 

“Yes!” Clint said enthusiastically, getting up off the ground with the help of Steve. 

This wasn’t the first time Steve looked after them at the same time, and he had no problem with doing that. But, somehow, his gut feeling was that this time wasn’t going to be as easy as it had been the last time. While he left the bedroom with a sobbing baby in his left arm and an energetic toddler by the right hand, Steve mentally wished they could spend an uneventful afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw any mistakes? Please, let me know :D


	24. Chapter 24

“Ask them to put chocolate inside the crust!” Clint said a bit too enthusiastically as he jumped up and down on the other side of the countertop. 

“Stop doing that, they’re gonna think this is a prank call!” Steve whisper yelled at Clint, a hand over the transmitter of the phone handset to avoid the guy on the other side of the line to listen to Clint’s unusual requests. 

“But you promised,” Clint whined, pouting harder. He had been pouting ever since Steve told him it wasn’t possible to have a puppy-shaped pizza. 

“I promised to buy a pizza and that’s what I’m doing, but if you keep interrupting me, I’ll never finish ordering it,” Steve scolded. Clint leaned over the counter, arms folded over it to cushion his chin, murmuring something about Steve being a liar. 

There was a time when those kind of comments would have made Steve reconsider whatever he was denying Clint. But after babysitting him for a few times, Steve realized how improper – and sometimes dangerous – it would be to please little Clint all the time. 

“Yeah, I’m still here. Yes, a large pizza with extra cheese, that correct,” Steve said into the phone, “are you sure you don’t want peperoni?” he said into Tony’s ear, but Tony shook his head as the grip in his shirt tightened. The small frown on Tony’s face told Steve he was still a bit resentful for being put down on the counter while he made the phone call, so Steve refrained himself from insisting. “Okay, thank you so much,” he said before hanging up. 

“Is it here yet?!” Clint asked with a huge grin on his face, pout completely gone. Steve raised a questioning eyebrow at him while he lifted Tony from the counter and held him in his arms once more, enjoying the way Tony latched to him immediately. “Is it?”

“I just hung up, it’ll take around thirty minutes,” Steve informed, not sure if Clint was for real. The pout reappearing on his face showed he was. “Why don’t we go and play while we wait for the pizza?” he hurried to suggest holding out his hand to Clint so he take it. 

“Yay!” Clint exclaimed, making Steve smile. It was still astounding how Clint could change his mood at the drop of a hat when he was little. 

They headed towards the guest room that somehow had ended up turning into a playroom for Tony over the last weeks. Steve had taken out all the unnecessary furniture and had refurnished the room with stuff more accurate for Tony’s little self. The only thing that Steve had kept was the bed. Now, there was a street map carpet that covered almost all the surface of the floor; several chests, baskets and shelfs to keep all the toys he and Tony had bought – which were a very considerable number – a bookshelf with plenty of books from which Steve liked to choose and read to Tony, sitting on the rocking chair next to it; a changing table big enough to support Tony; and some other stuff. Steve had even taken the time to repaint the walls and now one of them showed cartoonish dinosaurs on it – the fact that Tony had acquired a certain attachment to a tyrannosaurus rex stuffie hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

Eventually, Steve planned on turning the room into a nursery, the website where he had bought the changing table from also sold cribs and highchairs, but he thought it was still too soon for that. Tony hadn’t been that thrilled when he saw how Steve had redecorated the room, so Steve figured it was better to wait a little more. 

"Wow!" Clint expressed after Steve opened the door of the former guest room. "Can I really play in here?" he asked, excitement clear in his voice. 

"Of course you can, kiddo," Steve agreed, chuckling when Clint shook his hand anxiously so Steve let go of it and ran into the room, straight to the toy chests. 

By the time Steve reached the rocking chair, Clint had empty most of the contents of the chests and was now sitting in the middle of a pool of toys, deciding which of them he should play with first. Steve sighed while he sat down on the rocking chair with Tony on his lap, already thinking about the cleanup. It would undoubtedly be hard to get Clint to help him put everything away once he had finished playing; if Tony didn’t like tidying up, Clint disliked it even more. 

“Please be careful, sport,” Steve asked, nuzzling Tony’s hair. 

“Always!” Clint assured. Steve rolled his eyes, little Clint was everything but careful. 

“Don’t you want to go and play with Clint, baby?” Steve encouraged after realizing Tony’s eyes were fixed on Clint. Tony shook his head and snuggled closer to him, sucking his thumb with a rhythm that told Steve he still was a bit uneasy. Steve couldn’t complain, at least he had stop crying and didn’t seem upset anymore. “Why not? It’s going to be fun. Maybe you two could take your remote control cars and race them,” he suggested, Tony kept refusing. 

Every time Tony played, Steve couldn’t help noticing certain tension in him, as though he was uncomfortable. That tension eased a bit when Steve joined him, but Steve couldn’t help thinking there was something a bit odd in the way Tony interacted with the toys. 

Maybe what Tony needed was a playmate, one of his ‘own age’. Playing with another little might be the thing that made the difference in his behavior, and what better option than Clint? Clint surely knew how to have fun with any toy, he made noises when he played with toy cars and airplanes, imitating their real sound; he faked his death way too dramatically when they played with water pistols – a bad idea when you were inside, Phil made sure to point out; he hid in places that would be unreachable for a real toddler when they played hide-and-seek, though he always gave away his hiding place because he couldn’t stop laughing. Even if Steve still wanted Tony to be a baby, it would be nice to see him playing like Clint did every now and then. 

“Or why don’t you build a nice big castle with your Legos? You like playing with Legos, don’t you, sweety?” Steve continued, hoping one of his suggestions ended up interesting Tony. 

Ten minutes later, Steve was glad he kept insisting, because Tony got up from his lap and waddled towards the corner of the room where Clint was. Two minutes more, and Steve wished he hadn't done that. Of all the things he could have imagined Tony doing, snatching the Lego bricks bucket Clint was about to begin playing with was absolutely not one of them.

____________

“B-but I-I wann-na pla-ay with th-that,” Clint said in between sobs, pointing at the bucket Tony kept pressed against his chest, hugging it tightly.

“There are plenty of other toys, why don’t you play with the cars?” Steve suggested.

“No! I-I w-want the bri-icks,” Clint refused, just as he had been doing over the last fifteen minutes. 

“Tony, sweetheart, would you please lend your lego bricks to Clint? He promises to be careful with them,” Steve asked, voice as tender as possible, Tony shook his head fervently. Of course he did, Clint wasn’t the only one who had been refusing to any proposal Steve had been making, otherwise Steve wouldn’t be in this predicament. “Baby, Clint’s our guest, we have to treat him well.”

“No.”

“Come on baby, you’ve got to learn to share,” Steve insisted, Tony curled up even more.

“I-I wa-wanna go wi-with m-my da-daddy,” Clint begged.

“Sorry kiddo, but your daddy hasn’t come back,” Steve apologized, feeling sorry for Clint. He enjoyed looking after him whenever Phil wasn't available, but no matter how much he tried to entertained him and make his stay a pleasant one, Steve knew he would never be able to replace Phil, his daddy. 

“I d-don’t like i-it in he-ere, wa-wanna go,” Clint admitted before throwing himself onto the floor, starting to cry freely. Steve attempted to lean over and reach for him, but Tony stopped him by pulling his shirt.

“Daddy,” Tony called, voice broken. Steve’s heart melted.

“Wait a minute, sweetpea, daddy needs to calm Clint down.” Steve explained, Tony shook his head for the umpteenth time that day. Steve took a deep, deep breath. 

How was he supposed to handle a situation like this? The way both Tony and Clint had slipped into their headspaces hadn’t been precisely ideal, though Steve had actually imagined himself spending a nice afternoon with them. Who would have thought that after only an hour, he would be about to witness a double meltdown? 

“Captain Rogers, the pizza’s arrived,” JARVIS announced, in the exact moment in which Steve was driving himself crazy trying to decide who he should comfort first. 

Clint’s sobs died out as if by magic. “Pizza?” he questioned, sitting up and looking at the roof as if he was searching for JARVIS.

“Yes, young agent, pizza,” the A.I. confirmed. Clint got up from the floor instantaneously and ran to the door as he warbled ‘pizza’.

“Clint! No running inside!” Steve scolded, though he knew he would let him run as much as he wanted if that prevent him from continuing crying. Man! He would even race him if that helped. 

“Very nice timing, JARVIS,” Steve stated as he got up from the floor too and picked Tony up.

“Always happy to help, Captain.”

____________

"His slice is bigger!" Clint accused, pointing at Tony's plate.

"No, it's not, it's the same size as yours," Steve assured, stabbing another piece of chicken and some lettuce with the airplane-shaped fork. 

"That's not true, it's bigger. I want a bigger one," Clint demanded as he pushed away his plate. 

Steve sighed. "Clint, even if it was bigger, which it’s not, why would it matter? If you're still hungry when you finish that slice, I'll give you another one,” he reasoned, voice a bit tense. He held up the fork in front of Tony’s mouth, waiting for him to finish chewing the last bite. 

Little or big, Steve was trying to make Tony get use to ingest something nutritious before eating junk food. Tony wasn’t very fond of the idea, though he hadn’t really refused to it either. As long as the quantity of healthy food wasn’t more than the junk food, there were no complains. Clint, on the other hand, would have definitely protested if Steve had told him he had to eat some salad before the pizza. That was why Steve had refrained himself from even proposing the idea, he didn’t want to give Clint more reasons to want to leave. 

"No, I want a bigger slice," Clint repeated, folding his arms stubbornly over his chest. 

“First eat the one you have there, it’s going to get cold,” Steve warned. 

“No, it’s too small,” Clint said, sulking. 

“Eat that one, and then you take a bigger one, the biggest one if you want,” Steve said, and he knew any suggestion he made was going to be rejected when Clint shook his head forcefully. Steve sighed again. “Go. Go and get another one,” he conceded, not really understanding why the size of the slice mattered, but not willing to deal with a crying toddler either. 

Clint beamed. “Thank you!” 

“Don’t run!” Steve ordered, out of habit. 

Steve followed Clint, out of the corner of his eye, in his way to the counter where the box of pizza lay. Clint opened it and stared at it with a thoughtful expression on his face, scratching his chin. Surely, he was trying to decide which slice was the biggest one. Perhaps Steve should have gone and serve the other slice himself. 

“Daddy,” Tony called, tugging at his sleeve, mouth open waiting for Steve to pop the fork into his mouth. Steve turned his attention to him right away and fed him. 

“Oh, sorry baby, daddy got a little distracted,” Steve apologized after pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re such a good boy, you almost finished all your salad!” he praised, making Tony blush, “one more bite, and you can eat pizza, how about that? You want pizza, don’t you?” Tony nodded slightly, “Of course you do, you little –” 

Before Steve got the chance to finish that sentence, an illegible thud interrupted him. He turned his head around looking for Clint right away, noises caused by him were never a good sign, and his suspicions increased when his eyes met Clint’s. They were teary. Steve stood with Tony in his arms and approached the kitchen island, leaning out to see what was on the other side of it. How on earth had Clint managed to end up with the rest of the pizza on his feet? Steve had no clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't in the mood of working today, so I wrote instead (I didn't have a lot to do anyway, so no regrets). 
> 
> Tony's and Clint's relationship? Well, every time I picture this verse, I imagine them not getting along that well. I don't know, I guess the fact that I've seen some of my friends' kids doing the same had influenced my point of view. I mean, my friends think that their kids are gonna be very good friends just because they are the same age and we are friends, but sometimes it doesn't work that way. 
> 
> So, I can truly see Clint and Tony acting like that. With that I'm not trying to say they're gonna be brats or they're gonna be very mean to each other, but they might not be like best friends like we've seen in other stories. They might in the future, but I don't know yet. Who knows n_n'
> 
> Anyway, if you saw a mistake, please let me know. :)


	25. Chapter 25

“Tony, sweetheart, let me pick up Clint, just for a moment,” Steve begged.

“No,” Tony denied, voice determined, whining loudly when Steve tried to pry his hands away. Steve stopped cold when his lower lip began quivering, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. 

“Baby, Clint needs me right now, I’m not gonna leave, I’m gonna be right here next to you,” Steve insisted, but the only thing he managed was make Tony cling harder to him. 

“No.” Steve sighed. 

Even if there had been no scolding, Clint had begun to cry as soon as Steve asked him what had happened. Before he could stop him, Clint ran to the bathroom and locked himself in, calling for his daddy. Steve knocked on the door persistently, assuring Clint he wasn’t mad at him at all, and promising he would order another pizza provided Clint let him in first, with no luck. In between sobs, Clint had told him that he didn’t want another pizza, he wanted his daddy and he wanted to go. 

After twenty minutes, concern was eating Steve away to the point that he had decided to knock the door down. Breaking and destroying things wasn’t something he liked to do, though he just couldn’t stand hearing Clint cry on the other side and do nothing to comfort him. Fortunately, the strength he possessed allowed him to simply force the door instead of knocking it down. He stepped into the bathroom and found Clint curled up in the bathtub, sobbing miserably. Feeling sorry for him, Steve rushed towards the bathtub with the intention of cuddling Clint in his arms, but when he leaned forward to put Tony down, Tony hadn’t let him. 

“Sweetpea, please,” Steve pleaded, but Tony shook his head. “I’ll be right here with you, I promise.” 

Afraid Tony wouldn’t let go of him, Steve sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Maybe if he was sitting down, he could manage to shift Tony to one of his knees and settle Clint on the other. Tony’s face did screw up like he might start crying when was rearranged, but thankfully, he said nothing and just hid his face in the crook of Steve’s neck. 

“Come here, kiddo,” Steve called Clint, holding a hand out to him. Clint shook his head before hugging his knees and hiding his face behind them. Steve was starting to get really frustrated because of how many times he had been told ‘no’ that day. “Come on Clint, come here, come here sweetheart.”

“No, I-I wa-want my da-daddy,” Clint declined. 

“I know you do, but he’s not here, he’s working.”

“W-wanna g-go.”

“You can’t be by yourself, kiddo. Remember you promised your daddy you’d stay with me when you’re little and he’s not here,” Steve reminded, leaning enough to reach Clint’s knee, which only caused Clint to curled in tighter. “Don’t you want to be with me?” he asked, and he couldn’t deny it hurt a bit when Clint shook his head. “Come on, let’s go and order another pizza, I’ll let you dial.”

Clint kept shaking his head. “D-dun want p-pizza.” 

“Then tell me what you feel like eating, I’ll cook whatever you want,” Steve offered, voice as tender as he could manage. 

“Not h-hungy,” was the muffled answer. 

“You must be hungry, you haven’t eaten anything,” Steve pointed out as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling more and more frustrated by the minute. A caregiver was supposed to make sure littles were safe and content, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been doing a lame job up until now. 

“Captain Rogers, I took the liberty to call Agent Coulson, he’s on the line and he’d like to talk to young agent Barton,” JARVIS announced out of the blue, startling the three of them. Clint lifted his teary face, calling for his daddy, and began crying harder when the room was filled with Phil’s voice, looking desperately for him. 

____________

If it had been possible, Steve would have hugged JARVIS. Calling Phil had turned out to be a good idea. 

After a lot of soothing, Phil had managed to calm down Clint enough to listen to him, and he had made him promise to be a good boy, to listen to Steve and do everything he asked him to do. It hadn't been easy, and Clint refused to agree to anything until Phil promised to come back home that night at the latest. Phil then told Steve he was going to do everything in his power to stay true to his promise, and Steve hoped he really did. He wasn’t sure how to handle a disappointed little Clint. 

"Would you like another one, sport?" Steve asked, pointing at the pile of shaped pancakes in front of them. Clint nodded, and Steve served one more on his plate, refraining himself from commenting on how unhealthy it was to add as much whipped cream as Clint was doing. Seriously, the pancake couldn’t even be seen anymore. 

Pancakes for lunch wasn't exactly what Steve considered a proper meal, but after all the drama from an hour ago, Steve didn’t have it in him to deny Clint anything. When Clint told him he wanted pancakes instead of pizza, Steve felt he didn’t have any other choice but to agree. Making pancakes with Tony perched on his hip and Clint by his side all the time making sure he created the shapes he requested had _not_ been easy. 

“How about you, baby? Would you like one more?” Steve questioned Tony, receiving a shake of the head as an answer. The salad and three dinosaur-shaped pancakes seemed to have been enough for him. “What about some apple juice?” Tony nodded. 

Pushing Tony’s plate aside, Steve reached for the bottle in front of them and lowered Tony back a little so his back could be entirely supported by his arm. A more comfortable position to drink from a bottle. Futile, because Tony turned his face away when Steve offered the nipple of the bottle. 

“What is it, sweetheart? Didn’t you want juice?” Steve asked, confused. Tony shook his head and pushed the bottle away.

“That,” Tony said, pointing at the rocket-shaped sippy cup Clint was currently drinking from. 

“Oh, but honey, that’s for big boys, sweet little babies like you drink from bottles,” Steve explained as he rubbed his thumb against Tony’s tummy. 

“No, that,” Tony insisted. 

“You’re going to spill the juice.”

“No, careful,” Tony assured, still pointing at the sippy cup, “that.”

Steve’s lips pursed, “There are no more sippy cups, baby, that’s the only one. Come on, just try drinking from your bottle,” he proposed as he held it up in front of his face. Tony shook his head stubbornly.

“That.”

“I don’t have another one. Drink from your bottle now, and I promise I’ll buy you one tomorrow, you can even choose it,” Steve offered, pressing the nipple against Tony’s lips. Tony pushed it away once more. 

“No, that one.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded. Clint’s meltdown had been enough, Steve didn’t have the strength to deal with another one on the same day. “When Clint finished his juice, you can borrow it.”

“No! It’s mine!” Clint shout, crushing the sippy cup against his chest. 

Steve sighed heavily when Tony’s eyes began to fill up with tears. Not once had Tony demanded for a sippy cup, not even when they had just started age playing, so why did he have to want one precisely today?

____________

How could Steve demand Clint to lend the sippy cup to Tony if Tony hadn’t wanted to lend his Lego bricks when they were in the playroom before? It wouldn’t have been fair and the three of them knew it. 

Tony refused to drink from anything that wasn’t the sippy cup, and Clint refused to lose his grip on it. He even kept holding it when they finished having lunch and moved to the living room. It was until Tony snatched the controllers of the video game console which Clint planned on playing with, that Clint agreed to let him use his sippy cup. 

And it would have been great if the little quarrel had stopped there, but Steve’s luck seemed to be failing colossally that day. Clint hadn’t wanted to play video games by himself, and he had asked Steve to play with him. That wouldn’t have been an issue if Tony hadn’t insisted that Steve held the sippy cup for him while drank the juice. With both hands. 

“But it’s boring to play Mario Kart with no one,” Clint had whined.

“I know kiddo, I promise I’ll play with you as soon as Tony finishes his juice,” Steve had promised, without knowing it would take Tony a suspicious amount of time to do that. And when the juice was finally all gone, Tony claimed he was still thirsty. 

Clint had ended up going to sit down in front of the TV and played by himself, clearly upset. 

“Tony, this is the third glass you drink, you can’t possibly be still thirsty,” Steve uttered when Tony demanded a fourth refill. 

Steve knew it was just a way to keep him occupy and refrain him from playing with Clint, though he couldn’t understand why nor he could bring himself to contradict Tony. The mere thought of making him cry oppressed his heart. It was better to wait. Tony was looking more and more tired by the minute, so Steve might be able to put him down for a nap soon and that way he could have some quality time with Clint to avoid making him feel left aside. 

“More,” Tony insisted, the frown on his face indicating he wasn’t going to take a ‘no’ for an answer. Steve sighed while he shook his head in disapproval, but stood up and went to the kitchen anyway. 

“You’re gonna give yourself a tummy ache if you continue drinking like this,” Steve warned as he opened the fridge and reached for the bottle of apple juice. Tony kept shaking his head and pressed the sippy cup against Steve’s chest. 

____________

Steve had no idea for how long he rocked Tony back and forth trying to get him to sleep, but Tony just wouldn’t close his eyes. In any case, it was him and not Tony the one who was falling asleep. That was certainly unusual, since Steve never took naps, and if he did, it was only because Tony didn’t want to sleep alone. Maybe he was more stressed than he realized, and that was draining his energy away. 

Whatever the reason it was, taking a nap sounded like a wonderful idea for the time being, the only thing Steve needed was to figure out how to get both littles to sleep. Tony wouldn’t be a problem, even if he was obstinately trying to stay awake, Steve knew it was a matter of time before he finally surrendered to sleep. Clint, on the other hand, loathed naps. No matter how they tried to reason with him, nor how tired he was, for Clint naps were something only babies did, and he was not a baby. 

The first thing Steve would have to do was get Clint to stop playing video games, he might have disliked the fact that he had to play by himself, but taking into account how he was yelling at the TV now, he had long forgotten that and he was really enjoying himself. Taking away a toy which Clint was playing with was never a good idea. Steve could blackmail him, there were some chocolate cookies in the cabinets Clint loved, and he would do whatever Steve asked if he got one of them. But, if Steve’s purpose was to put Clint to bed, giving him sugar wasn’t the right way to proceed. 

“Uncle Steve,” Clint called, appearing in front of him out of nowhere. Was Steve dozing off that badly?

“What is it, kiddo?” Steve asked, shaking his head a little as though that would help him to feel less sleepy. 

“I wanna go,” Clint informed, taking Steve aback.

“Go? Where?” Steve questioned. Had anything happened? Why was Clint demanding to go again?

“Bathroom,” Clint said, and that word was all Steve needed to become completely awake. Clint jumped from site to site, hands struggling to unfasten the overalls. Tony whined when Steve sat up to reach for Clint, and Steve had to pushed his hands away because Tony pulled his sleeves, as an attempt to get him to continue hugging him. 

“Come here, let me help you with that,” Steve ordered, beckoning Clint to walk closer. He did, and Steve hurried to try to undo the buckles, but Clint’s constant jumping and squirming was not helping at all, “please stop moving,” he asked even if he knew Clint was doing that as a way to avoid losing control of his bladder. 

“Uncle Steveeee,” Clint whined miserably. The jumping stopped, though he crossed his legs.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to go to the bathroom as soon as you felt like to?” Steve couldn’t help scolding, frustrated because the buckles refused to be unfasten and it was obvious that Clint wouldn’t be able to hold it anymore.

It was always the same. Whenever Clint got immerse in any activity, he tended to overlook his body functions. Phil had to pay close attention to him and remind him to go to the bathroom when Clint showed any sign of having a full bladder, otherwise he would continue doing whatever he was doing and make use of his pull-up, which he totally dreaded and only leaded to tears. 

That only meant this was Steve’s fault. He was supposed to be looking after Clint, not nodding off. 

“Wait a bit more sweetheart, these things are stuck,” Steve said just before a sob escaped from Clint’s throat.

Steve was a terrible babysitter. 

____________

Steve flopped down onto the bed, feeling uncharacteristically exhausted. Changing Clint’s and Tony’s diaper had turned out to be a real ordeal. 

First, Steve had had to calm Clint down, as using his diaper had caused him a second meltdown. In order to do that, Steve had picked him up and rocked him, which was only possible after putting Tony down on the bed. Tony hadn’t liked that at all, and Steve ended up with two crying littles, one demanding to be allowed to leave and another one demanding to be scooped up. 

When Steve was finally able to soothe Clint enough to stop calling for his daddy, Clint refused to be changed on the changing table. Steve had to go and retrieve the changing mat to avoid Clint getting more upset than he already was, and convincing him to wear another diaper wasn’t easy either. Steve had to promise to give him a complete box of cookies, and not put back on the overalls – Steve couldn’t refute that, if Clint hadn’t been wearing them, he might have been able to make it to the bathroom. 

And If that hadn’t been enough, when it was time to change Tony, he had refused too. Clint might not mind getting changed in front of Tony, but Tony did.

“Sweety, Clint’s not even paying attention to us,” Steve had assured. “Look, he’s there minding his own business,” he pointed out. Said business consisted on trying to unsnap his onesie, because without the overalls the onesie didn’t look like a t-shirt anymore, and Clint loathed wearing clothes for babies. 

Steve could have taken Tony to their room and change him there, but there was no way he was going to leave Clint alone, especially not when the latter would take any opportunity to try to go and look for Phil. So, Steve ended up deciding to wait until Tony fell asleep to remove the drenched diaper, and it took him only ten minutes to regret that decision. With everything that had been going on with Clint, Steve totally forgot about how much juice Tony had drunk. The diaper couldn’t hold that amount of pee, and it ended up leaking. That only distressed Tony even more. 

By the time Clint and Tony were all clean up and apparently calm down, Steve was more than ready to go to bed, the fact that is hadn’t even started to get dark outside not being important. His idea of putting them down for a nap sounded more appealing than ever now. He took a book from the shelves before getting comfortable on the bed, allowed Tony to climb onto his lap and began reading. If that didn’t make them fall sleep, Steve didn’t know what he was going to do. His eyelids felt extremely heavy, and it was a matter of time before he fell asleep himself. 

“Come on Clint, get up here, there’s plenty of space.” Steve said, patting the empty spot in the bed next to him. 

“Stories are for babies,” Clint argued, sulking. Steve had noticed Clint was paying more attention to the story than to the cars he was playing with on the floor, though Steve thought it would be better not to point that out. 

“Oh, I’m sorry baby,” Steve apologized after he heard Tony whining, clearly annoyed because he had stopped reading. “… his heart sank faster than he'd just dived…” he continued.

____________

Phil fought back the urge of taking his phone out of his pocket and snap a picture of the trio that was sleeping on the bed. Steve lay in the middle of the bed with Tony snuggled against him using his chest as a pillow, and Clint was curled up on the other side, in a way that told Phil he had been reluctant to go to bed. Phil smiled fondly at the thought of Clint fussing, he didn’t like taking naps, but he sure needed them when he was little.

“I’m gonna start charging you every time I have to babysit,” Steve said, eyes still closed. Phil chuckled. 

“Come on, it can’t be that hard,” Phil commented, walking towards the rocking chair. By the time he sat down on it, Steve had opened his eyes and was now glaring at him, though Phil couldn’t feel any malice or resentment in his glare. 

“Next time you’ll look after both of them, and then you’ll tell me whether it’s hard or not,” Steve challenged. Phil chuckled once more. The way Steve sat up a bit to be able to press a kiss on the back of Tony’s head as his left hand ruffled Clint’s hair showed how little he minded taking care of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in my job, with no internet (we haven't had Internet in more than a week, which is awful because we can't really work like that and is soooo freaking boring) so, I couldn't really look up for some words or expressions that I wasn't sure how to express. So, if there are more mistakes than usual, sorry in advance (let me know if you see any n_n')
> 
> Well, what I tried with this chapter (counting the last two, because I planned them to be just one chapter, but then it got longer than I thought so I ended up splitting it) is to show that Tony is not the only one who's gotta get used to it, Steve too. He might have all that fatherly love whitin him, but taking care or littles can be tough regardless of how attached you feel to them :p.


	26. Chapter 26

“People are wrong when they say zombies are not possible. I have one as a boyfriend,” Steve joked when Tony stepped out of the elevator and entered the living room, dragging his feet as he clutched a mug to his chest like if it was the most precious thing in his life. 

Tony mumbled something back that Steve didn’t quite understand, and made a bee line to the kitchen.

“Seriously, how come the only thing that can make you leave your workshop is coffee?” Steve asked as he got up from the couch to follow him, walking into the kitchen just in time to see the horrified look that appeared on Tony’s face when he saw that the coffee machine was empty. Steve couldn’t help chuckling, earning a glare from Tony. “Sorry, we ran out of coffee. I was going to go downstairs to get more, but I somehow forgot about it,” he apologized. Tony kept glaring at him, but said nothing. Instead, he hugged the mug to his chest once more and walked past Steve. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Downstairs. Coffee,” Tony muttered, already leaving the kitchen. Steve hurried to catch up with him, placing a hand on his shoulder to stopped him from continuing walking. 

“Wait, don’t you think it’s time for you to take a break?” Steve suggested, sounding serious. The large bags under Tony’s eyes were too dark and protuberant to ignore. Convincing Tony to follow a regular work schedule was something that Steve didn’t even bother to do anymore, since it fell on deaf ears, but what he would never stop doing would be talk Tony into calling it a day when it was obvious he had overworked. 

“I haven’t finished,” Tony argued, looking anxious.

“Yes, but whatever it is what you’re working on, it’ll stay there until you go back. Why don’t you rest a little? We can hang out, watch a movie,” Steve proposed, knowing Tony almost never turned down an invitation to spend time with him. Tony pursed his lips, and nodded after a few seconds. 

Steve leaned over to kiss Tony on the forehead before pulling him gently towards the sofa. “What do you feel like watching?” he questioned, sitting down and guiding Tony to do the same. Tony shrugged his shoulders, squinting his eyes at Steve when he took the mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table. 

“How about an animated movie? There are a few I still haven’t watched, which one do you recommend me?” 

“I’m not feeling little,” Tony clarified, turning to look suspiciously at Steve. 

“I know, and before you imply it, I’m not trying to get you into playing today. I really feel like watching a movie that doesn’t have guns, violence or a complex dialogue in it,” Steve assured, trying that the expression on his face looked as honest as possible. It was true that sometimes he helped Tony to go into his littlespace by making us of childish things, like watching animated movies, but that wasn’t something he had planned on doing right now. 

“Good, because I’m not planning on wasting the afternoon, Pepper won’t be happy if I don’t meet the deadline,” Tony stated, voice determined. That was a lie, of course, because Steve knew the only times Pepper really got mad at Tony was when he missed a meeting or fell behind in the paperwork he was supposed to look over and sign. 

“Don’t worry, actually, it wouldn’t be convenient if you felt little right now.” 

Tony raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “How come?”

“I’d like to talk to you about something,” Steve informed, moving looking for a more comfortable position. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“If it’s about how to make your hair soft and silky as mine, ask Thor, I already told you he made me promise not to tell anyone,” Tony warned, fighting back a grin. Steve shook his head slightly in disapproval.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Tony assured, “Have you ever touched his hair? It’s literally and figuratively not from this world! I’ve been trying to talk him into starring a shampoo commercial, and last time he almost agreed, but Jane didn’t let him.” Steve couldn’t help chortling.

“Don’t you like Clint?” Steve blurted. If he allowed Tony to continue talking, he would never stop. He tended to do that when he got nervous, and serious conversation always had that effect on him. 

“What?” Tony exclaimed, clearly taken aback. 

“Don’t you like Clint?” Steve repeated, “Well, not Clint himself, I mean little Clint.” 

Even if it didn’t happen very often, whenever Steve had needed to babysit Clint, he had noticed that Tony fell into his little headspace almost immediately in his presence. But that was not the problem, Steve didn’t deny it was a bit complicated to look after two littles at the same time, though it wasn’t something he dreaded doing either. The problem was that little Tony seemed to truly dislike little Clint – and only little Clint, because the playful relationship they had when they were in their adult mindsets was still intact. 

Tony didn’t like to share anything with Clint, not even Steve’s attention, as he did everything in his power to keep it all for himself. Clint would get a bit annoyed by that, and even if there were sometimes that he would let it pass thanks to the fact that he got easily distracted, Steve was afraid there would be a time when Tony’s uncharacteristic behavior would cause a fight between them. Needless to say he did not want that to happen. In his mind, Steve had always imagined them being playmates, he wanted them to be, and that would never happen if Tony kept acting the way he had.

But why was Tony acting like that? Steve tried to find the reason before bringing the topic up to Tony, as he was aware Tony didn’t really like talking about that, but he couldn’t understand why. He did get that some of the things Tony did were due to embarrassment. Tony might be in a stage where Steve could affirm he was comfortable with the age play, though things he normally did when there were only the two of them, were almost completely avoided when Clint was around. Therefore, he might be embarrassed by those things. 

However, wanting Steve’s complete attention had nothing to be with being embarrassed. Jealously? That could be a reason, since the beginning Tony had shown certain reluctance to let Steve go with Clint when he was little, so it would make total sense if Tony was jealous of Clint. And if that was the case, Steve needed to clear things up.

“Where does that come from?” Tony asked back, his body tensing. 

“I think you know,” Steve said, “the fact that now you’re able to slip into your little headspace doesn’t mean you don’t remember the things you did once you’re out of it,” he hurried to say before Tony could play oblivious. 

Tony stared at him, hands restless and mouth partially open as if to protest, but no words left his mouth. 

“Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but if there’s something bugging you, I’d like to know so I can fix it. Is there something bugging you?” Tony shook his head, maybe a bit too soon. Steve pursed his lips. “Come here,” he asked, holding out his hand. 

Tony looked at it, then he looked back at Steve and then at the hand again, deciding whether to take it or not. Steve was sure Tony knew that, if he took it, he would end up sitting on his lap, so he gave him enough time to make up his mind. He liked having Tony close when they were going to address something serious, since he had realized physical contact helped Tony to speak up, but that didn’t mean he would force any kind of closeness if Tony didn’t want it. 

Fortunately, Tony consented. 

“I told you I’m not feeling little,” Tony reminded Steve when he surrounded his waist with his arms. 

“You sat on my lap long before we started age playing,” Steve said, rubbing his thumb against his abdomen. Tony squirmed a little. “So?”

“So what?”

“Would you mind answering the question I asked you and I’m sure you remember?” Steve encouraged. 

Tony looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s nothing bugging me.” 

“So I’m imagining things? You don’t behave differently every time we have Clint over?” Steve remarked.

“No,” Tony hurried to deny. Steve refrained himself from telling him he knew that was a lie. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling you’re a bit jealous of him.” 

"What? Jealous? I don't get jealous!" Tony exclaimed. 

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Of course!" 

“Well, actually that's good to know. I was talking to Phil this morning and he told me he was going to go on a mission that might last a week or so, you know that undercover missions can last more than expected,” Steve commented, playing close attention to Tony's reaction. His features certainly hardened in spite of himself. “The thing is, he asked me to look after Clint while he's away, you know, just in case he’s feeling little, and now that I know you have no problem with that, I’m gonna tell him–"

“No!” Tony shouted, and he covered his mouth with his hands right after, eyes wide open in realization of his slip-up. 

"No?" Steve echoed, "You don't want me to look after him?"

"No. I mean, yes, I said no because, what I meant with no was yes, but I got confused," Tony babbled. Steve smiled in sympathy and pulled him closer to his chest, a hand cupping his head to keep him in place. 

"Tony, if you don't want me to look after him, you can tell me, I won't get mad or anything," Steve promised, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “Would you mind if I look after Clint?” Tony squirmed, but he didn't attempt to move away. “So?” 

Petting Tony’s hair, Steve waited for him to make up his mind whether he wanted to answer honestly or not. After several minutes, Tony nodded, so imperceptibly that Steve would have missed it if Tony’s head hadn’t been resting on his shoulder. 

Steve took a deep breath before talking again. “Okay, you have the right to ask me that, and if you don’t want me to, I’ll avoid babysitting Clint as much as I can,” he assured as he pushed Tony away a little so he could look at him in the face. “But if I’m gonna do that, I need to know why. You need to tell me what’s bothering you.” Tony shook his head, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Yes, you do, sweetheart. How am I going to make things better if I don’t even know what the problem is?” Tony sucked his lips into his mouth. “Are you jealous of Clint?” Steve questioned again, and this time Tony nodded. “Why?” Tony shrugged. “Tony,” Steve called with a warming tone of voice. 

“You prefer to be with him,” Tony murmured, squeezing his hands together.

“What? Who says that?” Steve expressed, taken aback by the answer. 

“You have more fun with him.” 

“That’s not true. I love spending time with you, it’s fun,” Steve assured. 

“Clint’s bigger, you can do more things with him than with me. I’m boring,” Tony kept muttering. 

Oh. 

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be jealous about,” Steve promised as he wrapped him up in a hug once more. “Clint is bigger than you, indeed, and it’s true I do different things with him, but that doesn’t mean I get bored with you. I love our play dates, I wouldn’t change them for anything.”

“Maybe I should be a bit bigger,” Tony suggested, voiced muffled. Steve was afraid he said that. He didn’t want Tony to be a toddler like Clint, he wanted Tony to be a baby. If Tony had shown any sign of not liking being a baby, Steve would undoubtedly replan things; but Tony seemed to enjoy it, so Steve didn’t see any valid reason to change that. However, if Tony did want to be a bit older, Steve wouldn’t oppose. 

“I don’t want you to be bigger, I enjoy taking care of my sweet little baby,” Steve claimed, tightening his embrace. “I love carrying you around, bathing you, feeding you, cuddling you. Those are things I can’t do with Clint, and it’s okay, because I’m not Clint’s daddy, he has his own daddy, I’m _your_ daddy, and I love having you as my baby,” he emphasized, and he could feel Tony’s hands clutching his shirt. “So, don’t say that I prefer spending time with Clint or that you’re boring, because that’s not true. If the only thing you want to do all afternoon is to be rocked by me, I’m perfectly happy to do that. Remember I wanted to give this a try not only because I liked it, but because I really thought this was going to be beneficial for you too,” he assured, smiling when Tony snuggled closer to him. “And because I do want this to be a two-way street, if you don’t feel comfortable being my baby and you think you’ll feel more comfortable being a bit older, you can tell me, I wouldn’t mind.” 

Steve felt Tony’s body tensed one more time, and even if his face was half-hidden against his chest, Steve could tell Tony had gone crimson. 

“So? Do you want to try being a toddler?” Steve questioned. Tony’s face acquired a stronger shade of red before he shook his head. “I’d like a verbal answer, baby.”

“No,” Tony said very, very quietly. Steve grinned after pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Okay. But don’t forget that daddy wouldn’t care if you’re a baby, toddler or kid, I’d enjoy taking care of you no matter what,” Steve stated, “and if you ever see me doing something with Clint that you’ll like to try yourself, don’t hesitate to let me know, nobody says babies can’t run, or play big boys games.” Tony nodded. 

“I know you said you weren’t feeling little right now, but, how about taking a nap with your daddy? I promise I won’t stop you from going to your workshop when you wake up,” Steve suggested, suddenly in the mood of hanging with little Tony. 

“Not sleepy.” It was Tony’s only answer, which Steve interpreted as an affirmation. 

“Then just lie down with me for a while, you do need to rest,” Steve said as he stood up with Tony in his arms. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and his legs around his waist instantly, showing Steve that way that he certainly didn’t mind spending some time as little. “But first let’s change you into something more comfortable,” he announced, earning a grunt from Tony. He knew for sure what items of clothing Steve thought as comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw any mistakes? Please let me know :)


	27. Chapter 27

Tony’s whole body hurt. Not in a way that made him think there was something seriously wrong with him, but not in a way he could ignore either. Even if it was hard for Tony to admit it, chances were he was coming down with something, which wasn’t that surprising. 

In this time of the year, people tended to get sick due to the sudden temperature changes, so it was almost impossible not to catch something. It was true that the number of people who Tony interacted with on a daily basis was limited, and that was why he hardly ever got sick, but last week he had been on a business trip with Pepper, and he surely had come into contact with a lot of people. Pepper had called in sick a couple of days ago, and Tony was afraid he would have to do the same very soon. Figuratively, of course, because if he actually called his company to let them know he wasn’t going to go to work, he would cause a lot of confusion. 

Deciding there was no point on staying in his workshop when he felt too uncomfortable to concentrate, Tony asked JARVIS to save the progress and shut down everything. There was a time when Tony denied being sick and continued working, only taking short breaks until the discomfort he felt was too much to stand it. And even then, the only thing he did to mitigate the pain was lie down for a little while on the sofa he had right there in his workshop.

However, that tendency stopped when Tony started dating Steve. The first time Steve caught him hiding in his workshop not wanting anyone to find out he was running a fever which seemed to worsen by the minute, Steve had literally dragged Tony out of there and into their room, and spent all day applying cold compresses over his forehead in an attempt to reduce his fever. The time Tony had gotten a terrible flu, Steve had made sure he stayed in bed until he was completely recovered and he had cooked chicken soup for him, entertained him when Tony was bored out of his mind and even helped him to blow his nose (okay, Tony should have seen a pattern there, he should have realized Steve began babying him long before they started age playing). 

Because of that, Tony felt there was no need for him to pretend he was perfectly healthy anymore – Steve wouldn’t allow it anyway. He would never admit it, but he secretly loved being nursed back to health. If he had started hiding the fact that he was sick, it had only been because, after Jarvis had passed away, there was nobody who would take the trouble to look after him. Rhodey and Pepper had certainly cared for him a few times, but it wasn’t always possible due to their busy lives. And if Steve was willing to do it, well, Tony might as well enjoy it. 

Without having to tell JARVIS where he was heading, Tony rode the elevator to his floor, and made a beeline for the bedroom. He collapsed onto the bed as soon as he was in front of it, his muscles throbbing in protest. Kicking off his shoes, Tony gathered enough strength to crawl to the center of the bed; lying down with his legs over the edge of the bed was not a good idea anymore, that would surely cause him more pain after a while. 

The ice feel of the duvet under his skin made Tony wonder if he was running a fever, but before his hand reached his forehead, it came across with something fluffy. He lifted his gaze and raised an eyebrow when his eyes saw his stuffed dinosaur: Raawry (in his defense, Steve had been the one who had named it, not him, though he wasn't sure when he had started to use that name to refer to the stuffie) How had Raawry emigrated from the playroom to their bed? Tony had no idea, though he was too exhausted to care. He wasn’t really feeling little, so he pushed him away and reached for Steve’s pillow, closing his eyes and pressing his face into it. It smelled like Steve. 

 

Not knowing how or when, Tony must have drifted off to sleep, because the next time he opened his eyes, it was a little darker outside. He rolled onto his back, and was a bit surprised to find out he has hugging Raawry. Perhaps Steve had come when he was asleep and he had put it between his arms – he tended to do that – but when Tony looked around there were no signs of Steve. 

“JARVIS,” Tony called, his voice sounding way too hoarse. Tony took a hand to his throat and winced when swallow saliva. It hurt.

“Yes, sir?”

“Can you tell Steve to come?” Tony asked as he sat up, feeling bad enough to crave for Steve’s care.

“Captain Rogers is not in the tower, sir. He’s on a mission,” JARVIS informed. Tony definitely didn’t like what he’d just heard. 

“What? When did he leave?”

“Yesterday, sir.”

Tony’s stomach clenched. “That’s not possible, he didn’t tell me anything. He never leaves without letting me know he’s going on a mission.”

“He did tell you sir, he went down to the workshop yesterday at night while you were working on the new design of the suit and he told you about it. I can show you the footage if you like, sir,” the A.I. offered. Tony could detect a bit of disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t the first time Tony was totally oblivious of something due to being too immersed in whatever he was working on. “Do you want me to try to reach him, sir?” 

“No,” Tony said, though he was dying to say the opposite. It was never a good idea to call someone who was on a mission, as that could literally get him or her killed. Besides, chances were that Steve didn’t even have his phone with him. “When did he say he’s coming back?” 

“Tomorrow, sir.” 

Tony lifted Raawry so he could hug it to his chest, suddenly overwhelmed by how badly he felt like crying.

___________

“Clint, get up and come back to the table,” Phil ordered, voice authoritative.

“No!” Clint refused from the floor where he was lying on face down. “You lied! You promised me chocolate chips cookies!” 

“I didn’t lie, I told you I’d give you some cookies once you finished eating your lunch,” Phil pointed out, sounding falsely calm. “And I maintain it, no cookies until I see that plate completely empty.”

“I don’t like it!” Clint whined.

“Yes, you do. It’s mac and cheese.” Phil said, looking down at Clint, lips pursed.

“No! I don’t like broccoli!” Clint expressed, kicking his legs once. Phil took a deep breath, and wondered if he would witness a tantrum for a first time. He wished he wouldn’t.

Clint had been in a horrible mood when he arrived home. Catching up on reports tended to have that effect on him, and since Fury found out that Steve was writing Clint’s reports for him, he had forbidden it. Now, Fury made sure Clint had definitely been the one who had made the report, and if he failed to hand three reports in a row, he was called into the headquarters and wouldn’t be allowed to leave until he updated everything. Today had been one of those days. 

But Clint being moody wasn’t such a big deal, the problem arose when Clint slipped into his little headspace while he was feeling like that. He got extremely cranky and fussy, and no matter what Phil did, say or suggested, Clint disagreed just because. As he was doing right now. The good thing was that Phil knew exactly what to do to handle this situation: putting Clint down for a nap. And that was exactly what Phil was planning on doing after Clint finished eating, because Clint would never be able to fall asleep if he was hungry. 

“Clint, I’ve made you that dish hundreds of times and you always eat it. You love it.” Okay, maybe Phil was exaggerating that fact a little, Clint avoided vegetables as cats avoided water, but he would always end up eating them if Phil served them with something he really liked. 

“I don’t like it anymore,” Clint affirmed, Phil couldn’t help rolling his eyes. 

“Well, it’s your choice kiddo, no mac and cheese, no cookies.” Phil gave him an ultimatum before eating a couple of bites of his own lunch.

“But I don’t like it,” Clint complained, kicking his legs one more time. 

“You didn’t even try it,” Phil pointed out. 

“It looks icky.”

“It doesn’t. And even if it did, it tastes good. When have I given you something that had a bad taste?” 

“Always!” Clint whined. 

Phil preferred to ignore that accusation, and kept eating his lunch while he waited for Clint to stop whining. If he continued insisting him on stopping that nonsense and go back to the table, it would be worse. After fifteen minutes of hearing Clint calling him a liar, a meany, and many other things – something that Phil never took as an offense, since he was perfectly aware of the fact that Clint’s crankiness was the one that was talking, not him – he seemed to calm down. Phil beckoned to him and smiled when Clint didn’t hesitate to stand up and walk towards him.

“Why don’t you give it a try? I promise I won’t make you eat it if you don’t like it,” Phil proposed once Clint was standing in front of him, between his legs. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” Phil assured, turning Clint around so he could sit down on his leg. He reached for Clint’s bowl and held it in front of them so Clint could grab the fork, as being fed was something he considered too childish. Hesitantly, Clint ate some of the pasta, and judging by his expression, Phil knew he didn’t dislike the taste of it. “We can watch some TV after you finish,” he suggested, deciding not to make a big deal of what just had happened. 

“A movie?” Clint asked, taking some more pasta to his mouth. 

“Of course buddy, you choose,” Phil agreed, wrapping an arm around Clint’s waist so he didn’t slip from his lap. 

“And then I can play video games?”

“Sure,” was Phil’s answer, though he doubted Clint stayed awake long enough for that. If everything turned out well, Clint would go out like a light halfway through the movie. 

“And you’ll play with me?” Clint questioned with his mouth full. 

“Of course, I love playing with you,” Phil said before brushing a kiss over Clint’s shoulder. Clint squirmed a little. 

“Agent Coulson,” JARVIS said all of a sudden. 

“Yes?” Phil answered, looking up at the roof as he raised an eyebrow in confusion. JARVIS hardly ever spoke to him. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Agent, but your presence is needed in Sir’s and Captain Roger’s room,” JARVIS informed. 

“What? Why? What happened? Is everything okay?” Phil questioned, a bit taken aback. 

“Everything is okay Agent, but I’m afraid Sir’s in need of your assistance,” JARVIS said, and Phil could bet there was certain concern in the A.I.’s voice even if that wasn’t technically possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internet was reaaaaally slow today, so I couldn't really work. I decided to write instead XD. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please let me know if you saw any mistakes :D


	28. Chapter 28

“Clint, get down from there right now!” Phil ordered, face lifted towards the ceiling.

“No!” Clint yelled from the vent. 

“Yes! You know you’re not allowed to climb into the vents when you’re little!” Phil pointed out as he put his hands on his hips.

“No!” 

“Clint! I don’t have time for this!”

“No!” Clint said, and the sound that came right after was definitely caused by him kicking one of the walls. 

“Clint, don’t make me go and get you,” Phil warned, making sure his voice was serious enough so Clint didn’t think that was an empty threat. 

Truth to be told, Phil didn’t want to have to climb inside the vents. He had done it before, so he knew the only thing he’d manage to do would be hurting his knees due to having to chase Clint all over the air vents. Phil wasn’t as agile as him. He could go to another room and climb into a vent there and take Clint by surprised from the opposite end, but Clint already knew that trick and he would jump down from the vent before Phil could even reach him.

“NOO!”

“Clint, seriously, I need to go upstairs and you can’t stay here by yourself,” Phil informed. There was no way he was going to leave Clint unsupervised, who knows in what state he would find their floor once he came back. Phil was not in the mood of spending his free afternoon cleaning crayon marks from the walls, or drying the remainders of Clint’s attempts to have a pool in the living room. 

“I don’t wanna!” Clint kept refusing, making Phil take a very deep breath. 

“I’m sorry buddy, but this is something you have to do because your daddy’s asking you to do it,” Phil stated, hoping that was enough to make Clint come to his senses. He wasn’t that surprised when Clint stuck his head out of the vent, sticking out his tongue at him.

___________

At the end, Phil hadn’t had to climb into the vents, he just had had to make Clint believe that he would.

When Clint had heard the sound that the vent cover of the kitchen did when Phil removed it, he had jumped down from the vent, surely trying to run away from him. But Phil was already waiting for him down there, and even if Clint had run to avoid being caught, he had been so astonished for having been tricked that Phil had had no problems catching him. 

The good thing was that, in spite of little Clint’s stubborn and mischievous personality, Phil had never had to get physical trying to keep him in line. Thus, when Phil held his hand and pulled him towards the elevator, Clint only whined and complained about how unfair he was being, but he didn’t try to resist.  
That was good, because Phil couldn’t wait any more time, he had already wasted around half an hour waiting for Clint to come down, and he had to get to Tony’s room as soon as possible. JARVIS hadn’t exactly said Tony was in trouble or anything like that, the A.I. hadn’t even specified if Tony was feeling little or not, but Phil figured his assistance wouldn’t be needed if Tony was in his adult mindset. 

For what he had experienced with Clint, Phil knew littles disliked finding themselves all alone and without their daddies or an adult around. Clint used to cry a lot whenever he slipped into his headspace and Phil wasn’t around, and he wouldn’t stop crying until Phil showed up. That used to devastate Phil enormously, so, when Steve found out about the fact that they were into age play, and showed no signs of being troubled by babysitting, Phil couldn’t have felt more relieved. Now, if Clint needed to spend some time as little, Phil could count on Steve to be there for him if Phil wasn’t. 

Because of that, Phil wanted to reciprocate. He wanted to be there for Tony like Steve had been for there for Clint. If Clint had a hard time despite being a toddler, Tony would have it worse being a baby. Steve had told him his assistance wouldn’t be really needed since Tony didn’t slip into his littlespace without his encouragement, but Phil had promised to help if it was ever necessary anyway. And he was determined to keep that promise. 

“I’m sleepy,” Clint complained when they stepped out of the elevator. Phil rubbed his thumbs against the back of his hand in sympathy, but he didn’t stop nor turned around. 

“I know, peanut. Daddy will snuggle with you in bed and read you a story as soon as I make sure Tony’s okay,” Phil promised as he made a beeline to Tony’s and Steve’s bedroom, hastening his steps when his ears perceived the sound of someone sobbing. 

Without further delay, Phil reached the bedroom, opened the door and entered. Tony turned his head towards the entrance instantly, and Phil witnessed how his expression changed from hopeful, to disappointed, to finally horrified. Before Phil could do anything to avoid it, Tony got off the bed and ran towards the closet, closing the doors behind him.

“Wait for me here, buddy,” Phil ordered as he pushed Clint gently to the bed until he sat down on it. A huge pout appeared on Clint's face, but Phil couldn't sense any intention of disobeying. 

Phil pressed a kiss against Clint's forehead before heading to the closet, his mind already trying to figure out what the best way to coax Tony out of there would be. He would need to be very careful if he didn't want to scare Tony away. According to Steve, Tony was still struggling with all the age play thing, so it was highly probable that Tony wouldn’t be thrilled to be around an adult who wasn’t his daddy. 

“Tony?” Phil called. He stood very close to the door but he didn't open it, afraid that only caused another attempt to escape from Tony. "Tony, are you okay?" he asked, receiving no answer. He pressed his ear against the door, and the only thing he could hear was Tony's heavy breathing, so uneven that there was no doubt he was trying not to cry, but he was failing miserably. “Tony, please, answer to me, I just wanna know if you're okay,” he insisted. 

“Daddy,” a tiny voice said from the other side of the door. If Phil still doubted it, that confirmed that he was dealing with little Tony. 

“I'm sorry buddy, but your daddy's not here,” Phil informed, regretting letting those words out of his mouth almost immediately. Tony’s sobbing worsened considerably. “Hey, hey, take it easy buddy, your daddy’s not here, but Uncle Phil is,” he dared to say. Hopefully, referring to himself using such term would make Tony feel more comfortable with him being there. Or that could also cause him to retract more.

Unfortunately for Phil, the latter ended up happening. 

No matter how much Phil called Tony, for the next several minutes the only thing Phil could hear were Tony’s sobs as well the quiet pleas for his daddy to come. Phil may well have gone inside the closet and tried to comfort him, but he thought it would be better to give Tony some space and time so the idea that he would have to spend the rest of the day with him and Clint sank in. Perhaps that was also one of the reasons why Tony was crying. 

“Daddy, I’m tired, I wanna sleep,” Clint repeated from the bed, making Phil turn his head around to look at him. 

Clint was rubbing his eyes while he yawned, and Phil knew it was only a matter of minutes before he fell asleep. That wouldn’t be so bad, after all, Phil had already intended to send Clint to bed. The thing was, Phil wanted to have some quality time with Clint before he went to sleep, otherwise, the chances of Clint waking up even grumpier would increase. He couldn’t really afford to deal with a fussy toddler when he had already to deal with a fussy baby. 

“I know sport, but hang in there a little bit more, please. Just let me convince Tony to get out of there, and I promise we’ll go downstairs and I’ll make you a milkshake so you can drink it while I read you a story. How does it sound?” Phil proposed, and he smiled sympathetically when Clint nodded enthusiastically, or at least as enthusiastically as he could, taking into consideration how exhausted he seemed to be feeling. “You’re such a good boy.”

Determined to stay true to his promise, Phil returned his focus to the closet. He would go inside and do everything he could to coax Tony out of there. Then, the three of them would go back to his floor, and hopefully, in less than an hour he would have two littles taking a nap peacefully, giving him enough time to plan how he would entertain them for the rest of the evening. 

With that in mind, Phil placed his hands on the closet doors, and he was ready to slide them open when someone beat him to it from inside. Before Phil’s brain had time to analyze what had happened, Tony rushed out of the closet, knocking Phil over in the process, and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Okay, maybe it would take more than an hour to have both littles tucked in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! How you doing? 
> 
> It's been a while since I last updated. I'm sorry. Beisdes the fact that the last two months of the year is when I'm the busiest, I haven't really felt like writing. I hope I have time to update soon, but I promise nothing n_n'''
> 
> If you saw any mistakes, please let me know :)


	29. Chapter 29

Phil couldn’t help feeling a bit stupid for not putting two and two together sooner; after all, he had seen Clint rushing through a room to get to the bathroom several times, just as Tony had done. By the time he had gotten up from the floor and gone into the bathroom, it had been too late. Even if Phil had found Tony struggling to unbutton his jeans, the wet spot on them that went from his crotch to all the way down his legs, as well as the relatively small puddle surrounding him, were an undisputable proof that he had already lost control of his bladder. 

Concerned, Phil stood by the door trying to decide what to do next. Experience indicated him he should pretend that what had just happened lacked importance at the same time he was comforting, though Phil wasn’t sure Tony would allow that. In his adult mindset, Tony always gave the impression that he was the kind of person who liked to deal with things on his own, and disliked when someone seemed to meddle. Phil wasn’t sure how much of that trait remained in Tony now that he was clearly in a different mindset. 

Perhaps Tony would feel less uncomfortable and embarrassed if Phil allowed him to clean up himself alone. Or maybe Phil should let Tony know he was in charge and, by consequence, he was going to do all the cleaning. As far as he knew, that was what Steve sometimes did, he took control of the situation when he thought it was necessary and left not room for arguments. Phil had seen Steve carrying Tony out of his workshop a couple of times when Tony had overworked himself to exhaustion and was too stubborn to give himself a break. Certainly, Phil could try to take a similar approach, though he couldn’t help feeling the only reason Tony allowed to be treated like that was because it was Steve. 

Still indecisive, Phil took a step forward and realized he would need to make fast decisions and act more quickly if he didn’t want this whole situation to be out of his hands. Even though Tony was clearly torn up for having wet his pants, he didn’t hesitate to run out of the bathroom right past him. 

Cursing himself under his breath for not seeing it coming, Phil turned on his heel and chased after Tony right after he asked Clint to wait for him there. Perhaps it was a very bad idea to leave Clint alone when he was evidently in an unstable mood, but Phil was afraid of losing sight of Tony as there were plenty of places in the tower where he could hide, and spending all afternoon playing hide-and-seek with him wasn’t in Phil’s plans. 

Fortunately, Tony didn’t head for anyplace outside his floor. Phil felt a bit relief when he saw him entering one of the guest rooms. If Tony had gone to his workshop, it would have certainly been more difficult to get him out of there. JARVIS granted Steve permission to go inside despite Tony’s orders, but Phil doubted the A.I. would do the same for him. 

“Tony, buddy, why don’t you come out of there?” Phil suggested, peeking under the bed where Tony had hidden. He had reached the door just in time to prevent Tony from locking it, but he hadn’t been able to stop him from crawling under the bed. “It was just an accident, you don’t have to worry about it. It happens,” he consoled, stretching his arm so he could caress Tony’s leg, but that only make him curl in tighter. 

“I want daddy,” Tony said miserably before another sob escaped from his throat. 

“I know you do, but your daddy’s busy right now, he can’t come. And you can’t stay there until he arrives,” Phil hurried to clarify, knowing perfectly well that thought had crossed Tony’s mind. “You need to come out here.” Tony shook his head. “Yes, you have to change out of those clothes.” Tony refused once more. “Tony, your daddy wouldn’t want you to stay there, he would be really sad if he comes back and finds out you preferred to stay here instead of letting me help you.” 

By the way Tony tensed, Phil knew he was one step away from talking Tony into leaving his hideout.

__________________

“I don’t need it,” Tony complained with a tiny voice, drawing his knees up to his chest, as if he was trying to get as far as possible from him.

“Maybe you won’t, but I think it’s better if you let me put it on,” Phil suggested as he kneeled in front of him. Getting down at Tony’s level was essential if Phil didn’t want to make Tony feel more uncomfortable than he already was. 

“Don’t want it,” Tony said, tensing a bit when he saw that Phil had gotten closer. “Won’t happen again.”

Phil smiled sympathetically as he placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, “I’m sure it won’t, but won’t you feel more relaxed knowing you have some protection just in case?” Tony shook his head, and Phil bit his lips, unsure of what to do. 

Once Tony decided to get out from under the bed, everything had gone so smoothly that Phil even dared to think things would be all right from then on. It was true that Tony had refused empathetically to take a quick shower, but considering de fact that he didn’t like water, Phil was afraid he shouldn’t even have proposed such a thing. However, Tony hadn’t resisted when Phil undressed him from his waist down in order to wipe off with a wet cloth all the dried urine from his skin. He had continued sobbing as he called for Steve every now and then, and an intense blush never faded from his face, but besides that, Tony had been quite docile. He hadn’t even complained when Phil informed him he was going to go downstairs with him and Clint. 

But then, Phil had fetched one diapers from the drawers – the guest room ended up being the room Steve was turning into a nursery, the same one Clint had told him about with a delighted expression on his face, as he had never seen so many toys – and that was enough to upset Tony once more. He had tried to run off the room, though Phil had been able to react rapidly this time and blocked his way. He had also stopped him from locking himself inside the bathroom or the closet too. So, feeling trapped, Tony had curled up into a small ball on the furthest corner of the room, and he had stayed there for the last twenty minutes. 

“Come on buddy, let’s just put this on you so we can go and do whatever you want. We can watch a movie, or play something. Are you hungry? I bet you are, I can make you whatever you want to eat,” Phil offered, hoping any of those suggestions made Tony change his mind. Tony kept shaking his head. “C’mon kiddo, come with me, let me diaper you,” he insisted, taking Tony’s hand in his. 

“No, daddy!” Tony blurted out, retracting more. 

Phil raised a confused eyebrow. “Is that it? You don’t want me to diaper you because I’m not your daddy?” he inquired. Tony didn’t answer, though he didn’t need to, the burning on his face did it for him. “Okay, okay, it’s okay,” he said more to himself than for Tony, “I tell you what, why don’t you wear a pull-up? You can put it on, and you can take if off whenever you feel like going to the bathroom,” he proposed, and he was relief when Tony didn’t seem to dislike the idea.

__________________

“Okay, your daddy certainly likes onesies,” Phil commented when the fourth drawer he peeked into was full of them too. “I guess this is your only option,” he informed, holding out some overalls.

“Jeans,” Tony said, making a face at the outfit while he pulled down his t-shirt, as if he was trying to cover his pull-up with it. Phil found it ironic how Tony seemed to be more embarrassed now than when he had been in front of him practically naked. 

“I’m afraid any of your pants would fit over the pull-up, buddy,” Phil stated, and by Tony’s expression, he could tell Tony hadn’t liked hearing that. 

Now he understood why Clint complained about the diapers Steve put on him, they were certainly thick. Even the pull-ups that Steve had purchased – because those pull-ups Phil found in the drawers were definitely not the ones he usually got for Clint – were exactly the same as Tony’s diapers, but without tapes: thick and with childish prints on them. 

“Why don’t you stay like that?” Phil proposed, “There’s nobody in the tower but us and Clint, you don’t have to worry about someone seeing you. Clint is wearing one two,” he added, as if that would make Tony more comfortable. 

“Jeans,” Tony repeated, looking nervous. 

Sighing deeply, Phil decided it wasn’t such a good idea to contradict Tony, at least not for the time being, “okay, let’s go to your room and see if none of your jeans fit.” It would actually be great if one pair did, that way Phil wouldn’t have to deal with a grumpy little for the rest of the afternoon. “C’mon.”

Phil held out a hand, smiling encouragingly at Tony, but he just stared at it without any intention of taking it. _Not pushing_ , Phil thought to himself before turning around and starting walking towards the door; adult Tony didn’t seem to be very fond of being touched, so it was very probable that little Tony didn’t like it either. Out of the corner of his eye, Phil could see Tony squirming a little, clearly indecisive whether to follow him or not, only taking some steps forward when Phil reached the door and open it. 

Tony kept waddling behind him, keeping a considerable distance between them during all the way. Phil didn’t slow down to be nearer Tony, though he kept a close eye on him so he wasn’t taken by surprised if Tony decided to run away one more time. Thankfully, he didn’t, and Phil was relieved to see that Tony was still behind him when he entered his and Steve’s room.

It was a shame that that feeling of relief lasted less than a minute. Phil was expecting to find a sleeping Clint on the bed, after all, he had already been sleepy and it had taken Phil quite a long time to deal with Tony; but what never occurred to Phil was to find an empty bed. Where the hell had Clint gone? If Phil was dreading the idea of having to look for Tony all over the tower in case he ran away and hid, having to do the same for Clint was even worse. Tony didn’t climb vents, but Clint did. 

Without losing any time, Phil’s mind began to think about the places Clint liked to use as hideouts, though he got distracted by a sudden noise which echoed down the hallway. The noise was so familiar, and yet, Phil’s brain didn’t seem to be able to identify it. It sounded like… 

Phil’s eyes snapped wide open when realization hit him. 

“Clint!” Phil yelled, turning around and grabbing Tony’s hand before running towards the kitchen. Tony whined and tried to free his hand, but Phil held on tight. “Sorry, kiddo, but I really need to check on Clint before looking for your jeans,” he apologized. 

The scene Phil witnessed when he entered the kitchen made him want to laugh out of frustration. Clint was standing in front of the kitchen island with both hands on the jar blender, blinking non-stop trying to keep the milk that ran down his face away from his eyes. Phil didn’t even need to ask what had happened, the mess around Clint, as well as the forgotten lid next to the blender, showed perfectly well what had come to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about making this chapter longer, but when I do that, it takes me too much to update, or I get busier and I don't have to finish it. 
> 
> Anyway, if you saw a mistake, please let me know :)


	30. Chapter 30

"Stop moving," Phil ordered, scrubbing Clint's back as fast as he could without being too harsh. 

"I wanna sleep," Clint whined as he tried to get away from Phil, unsuccessfully. He had never been a fan of showers, especially because there were no such things as shower toys. 

"You will, but first I need to finish showering you, and I won't be able to do that if you keep moving," Phil argued. There was no way he was going to let Clint lie down on the bed while he was still covered in milk. And chocolate syrup. And cookies. And marshmallows. And sprinkles. And whipped cream. And cherries. And who knows what else Clint had put in the milkshake he had tried to make. 

"Daddyyy," Clint whined once more, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. 

"Hey, no, no. You're not falling asleep in the shower," Phil warned, shaking him gently but firmly. Clint just grunted miserably. "No, come on. We already made Tony wait too much." 

And they had indeed. Getting Clint in the shower hadn't been easy, Phil had had to chase him all over the kitchen, only catching up to him when he slipped on a puddle of milk and fallen down, landing on his butt. Then, Phil had had to comfort him before coaxing him into taking a shower. And because there was no way he was going to leave Tony by himself, he had taken him into to the bathroom with them, sat him on the toilet and asked him to wait for them. Tony had disliked the idea, since he still wanted to go to his room and put on something to cover the pull-up he was clearly not comfortable with showing. A huge pout appeared on Tony’s face while he continued pulling down his t-shirt, his eyes fixed on the door. 

Pouts, those Phil could deal with, as long as Tony didn’t decide to run away one more time, there wouldn’t be no problem. What Phil hadn’t been expecting was to hear Tony starting to cry again all of a sudden for no apparent reason. That had certainly made Phil uneasy, because he was afraid there was nothing he could do about it; if he tried to sit Tony on his lap in order to soothe him just as he usually did with Clint, Tony would surely refuse. And the fact that Tony was calling for Steve, sometimes saying his name and sometimes saying _daddy_ , just indicated Phil that he was trying to get back to his normal headspace, which mortified him more. According to what Clint had told him, being caught between two headspaces wasn’t fun. 

“I didn’t even wanna take a shower,” Clint complained when Phil made him straighten. 

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before making a mess. What on earth were you thinking about? You know you’re not allowed to use any appliances,” Phil scolded, leaning forward in order to scrub Clint’s legs. 

“I wanted a milkshake,” Clint replied with tiny voice. 

Phil couldn’t help scowling at him, “I told you I’d make you one, didn’t I?”

“You… you were taking too l-long,” Clint pointed out, sounding insecure. He sure knew no excuses were valid to Phil. 

“That didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna keep my promise,” Phil remarked, “let it be the last time you go into the kitchen when no adult’s around,” he ordered, his tone of voice as serious as possible so there wasn’t the slightest doubt he meant it. Clint nodded shyly, squirming a little under Phil solemn expression. “And you’re going to explain your uncle Steve why his kitchen looks like a volcano of chocolate erupted there, you know how much he dislikes mess. Now, please stay still so I can finish washing you.” 

It was undoubtedly easier to scrub Clint when he wasn’t attempting to get away from him, and in less than five minutes, Phil had already rinsed him, taking him out of the shower and dried him off. 

“Don’t worry kiddo, we’re almost done,” Phil informed to Tony as he helped Clint to put on a pull-up, ignoring the mope that appeared on Clint’s face when he realized how different that pull-up was from the ones he usually wore – though he knew better than to argued right after he had being scolded. Tony didn’t answer, he just kept sobbing uncontrollably while he turned his head away. 

Phil pursed his lips as he refrained himself from commenting further. Tony seemed to be mad at him, and Phil got the feeling that it would be worse if he tried to do something about it. Sighing slightly, Phil focused his attention on Clint once more, or that was what he had intended to do before catching a last glimpse of Tony’s face. His cheeks were flushed and he looked kind of pale. That could certainly be caused by how much Tony had been crying. However, Phil instinctively reached out to touch a hand to Tony’s forehead, and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern when he sensed how overly warmed Tony felt.

________________

“Tony, please open up,” Phil asked, holding a thermometer in front of Tony’s face, though it seemed as if Phil had asked the exact opposite, because Tony closed his mouth more tightly. “C’mon buddy, I need to take your temperature, I’m afraid you’re running a fever.” Tony shook his head as he sank further into the bed. “You know how adults need to take little kids’ temperature when they refused to take it orally, don’t you?” he warned, and he would have laughed at Tony’s expression of pure horror if he hadn’t been so worried. “That’s a good boy,” he praised when Tony opened his mouth and allowed him to put the tip of the thermometer under his tongue.

“Daddy, they don’t have the book,” Clint whined from the other side of the room – or nursery?

“Keep looking,” Phil ordered as he turned his head towards him, choking a grunt when he saw all the books that had previously been in the bookcase spread on the floor around Clint. 

“I checked all the books. It’s not here,” Clint assured.

“Then I’ll read one of those, pick one, whichever you want,” Phil suggested, earning a glare from Clint. 

“I don’t like them, they’re all baby books. I’m a big boy,” Clint declared after kicking some of the books. 

“Hey! Don’t do that.”

“I wanna read Ender’s game.”

“I know, but that book’s not here, it’s downstairs,” Phil alleged.

“I’ll go and get it,” Clint proposed, putting face of good bot. Phil didn’t buy it. 

“No, you know you’re not allowed to leave a floor without an adult.” Phil reminded, turning back his attention to Tony right after the thermometer indicated with a beep that the temperature had been taken. Phil removed it and his mouth tugged into a disapproving frown when he saw the numbers displayed. 101 F, nothing to be too alarmed, but Tony was definitely sick. “You have a fever, kiddo,” he announced, looking down at Tony, “why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t feeling okay?” he questioned. 

“Not sick,” Tony lied, looking uncomfortable under his gaze. 

“Yes, you are,” Phil stated with a warning tone of voice. “Clint, I told you to stop that,” he ordered firmly when he heard Clint continued kicking the books. "Tony, I need you to tell me, does something hurt?" 

"No," Tony answered, maybe a bit too fast. 

"Tony, if you don't tell me what's wrong, I'm gonna have to call a doctor. Your daddy will kill me if this turns out to be something serious and I didn’t do anything about it,” Phil cautioned, biting his lip to hold back a smile caused by how Tony’s eyes snapped wide open at the mention of the word ‘doctor’. “Then tell me where you have pain?” he insisted. Tony hesitated a little before taking his hand to his throat. 

So the crying hadn’t caused the hoarse voice either.

________________

The rest of the afternoon was an ordeal. Phil never imagined how stressing looking after two littles could be, and the fact that Tony was sick and Clint was overtired just made everything worse.

Phil had taken a look at Tony's throat and nothing seemed wrong with it, though the fever indicated an infection could develop, so Phil figured it was better to have Tony rest as much as possible. Persuading Tony to stay in bed wasn't easy, especially when Clint kept insisting on going downstairs to get the unfinished book Phil had promised to read him. Tony had make it clear that he was willing to go with them, just an excuse for not remaining lie down. In the middle of the argument, JARVIS offered to get a digital version of it and transferred it to his phone, and Phil could have kissed him for doing that if it had been possible. Phil was able to keep both Clint and Tony entertained with the story for some time, until Tony’s fever got worse.

If adult Tony was reluctant to take medication, little Tony proved to be much worse in that aspect. No matter how much Phil insisted, asked, begged, threatened, blackmailed or tricked, Tony wouldn’t agree to take ibuprofen. Phil had to crush the pill and dissolve it in water to get Tony to take it. Everything would have been okay after that if Tony hadn't refused to drink from anything that wasn't a glass, and if Clint hadn't picked that exact moment to kick his legs in annoyance because Phil had stopped reading the book.

Although he spilled the water on himself, Tony refused to change, and Phil got the feeling that was due to the fact that Tony didn’t want to be dressed in a onesie. Fortunately, Steve kept some of his t-shirts there, in the closet of the nursery. Unfortunately, that reminded Tony about Steve, and even if he clearly tried not to, he ended up sobbing once more. 

While Phil attempted to soothe Tony – without good results – Clint had an accident, and soon Phil had to deal with two crying littles.

Eventually, Phil reached a point where he just couldn’t believe how everything was going downhill gradually without being able to do something about it. Clint refused to take a nap if Phil didn’t finish reading at least three more chapters of the book, something Phil couldn’t afford to do because he was busy placing wet cloths on Tony’s forehead as an attempt to reduce his fever. Tony was clearly uncomfortable, and the fact that Clint began playing with some of the toys from the chests in very noisy way didn’t let Tony rest peacefully.

By the time the night fell, Phil was exhausted. Tony’s fever had decreased considerably, though he had started to cough more often, complaining about having a sore throat. Clint had gotten fussier than ever, and demanded Phil’s total attention, making Phil suspect that he was feeling a little jealous. He drew on the walls instead of looking after Tony like Phil had asked him to do while he went to the kitchen to fix dinner. He made a complete mess when he ate, and Phil had to shower him for the second time that day. He ran all over the floor trying to prevent Phil from dressing him. It became very obvious that Clint was behaving that way to keep Phil away Tony, but Phil couldn't do that.

After being finally able to put on some clothes on Clint, Phil dragged him back to the nursery, only to find out that Tony had lost control of his bladder once more, and this time it took Phil almost an hour to coax him out of under the bed.

When fatigue took over both of them, Phil couldn’t have been happier. He sat down on the rocking chair and watched them sleep for a long time, wondering how two very handful littles could look so angelic when they were sleeping. After cleaning as much as possible all the mess Clint had caused during the day, Phil took a quick shower and got ready for bed. Inopportunely, when he was still figuring out where he could settle to catch some sleep, Tony woke up, and he evidently didn’t like not finding Steve. 

Everything seemed to indicate that Phil wouldn’t be able to catch his breath just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, let's just say that Phil will never doubt Steve when he says looking after little Clint and Tony at the same time is more than tiring. 
> 
> If you saw any mistakes, please let me know :)


	31. Chapter 31

Steve brought the back of his hand up to wipe his forehead, sweat running freely down his face regardless of the fact that JARVIS kept the tower at an ideal temperature all year round. It had taken him all afternoon, he had struggled a bit with understanding some of the instructions and he had found out that nails and screws could multiply or disappear out of the blue, but it had been all worth it. The guest room wasn’t a playroom anymore, it had been turned into a nursery and it was just as Steve had imagined it.

The chest toys, the reading corner as well as the changing table were still there, but now there was a crib instead of a bed – with a dinosaur mobile over it – a teddy bear bigger than him next to it, a playpen in lieu of the foam mat and a highchair in the middle of the room which Steve planned on taking to the kitchen only when Tony use it. Steve had even purchased a car-shape bed for Clint, just in case it was necessary to babysit him.

For the last days, Steve had been looking on the Internet for the perfect items to finish furnishing the room, and with the help of JARVIS, he had placed the order. To his amazement, everything had arrived in just a day, and Steve had waited for Tony to leave the tower to go to a meeting to start putting everything together, wanting to be a surprise for him. He was looking forward to seeing Tony’s expression when he saw his new nursery, he would surely love it.

Steve had been a bit hesitant at the beginning whether he should go this far or not. Tony hadn’t exactly been thrilled when he turned the room into a playroom, and Steve was afraid Tony would refuse to go inside if the room got more childish. But after the events from a couple of weeks ago, Steve thought there wouldn’t be any problem now.

Against all the odds, Tony had slipped into his little headspace while Steve was away, and to make things worse, he had been sick too. When Steve arrived home, on the following day, he had been surprised to find Phil in the playroom diapering Tony – or trying to do it, because Tony had been squirming and pushing him away so badly that Phil hadn’t been really achieving it. As soon as Tony spotted him, he ran towards him, threw himself into his arms, and he hadn’t let go for the next three days. Literally. He would cry if Steve got away from him for more than a couple of minutes.

After Phil told him everything that had happened, remorse had taken over Steve. The mere idea of imagining Tony being little, feeling bad, crying and calling for him made his heart twitch. He was supposed to be there for Tony. Always. He had made that promise. And now that Tony had needed him the most, Steve had failed him. He had failed _little_ Tony, which was even worse. It was true that Phil had done everything he could to look after him, however, Steve knew – and little Tony left that clear – that the only person Tony wanted taking care of him when he was little was Steve. Perhaps in the future Tony would be comfortable around another ‘adult’, but not for the time being.

Steve had apologized thousands of times, he had pampered his baby as much as possible, and he had been all over his boyfriend doing everything he could to make up to him for what had happened, everything that was necessary to lighten the burden of guilt off his shoulders. For the next couple of weeks, there wasn’t anyone else other than Tony for Steve.

And even though Tony didn’t really seem to be angry at him, Steve’s mind wasn’t at ease. Because not having been there when Tony slipped into his little headspace wasn’t the only reason why Steve felt guilty, but also the fact that he had somehow liked how things had turned out after that.

According to Phil, Tony had tried to get back to his normal headspace during all the time he looked after him, but once Steve was in charge, Tony had had no problems with staying little. Whether that had been due to having being sick or because Tony had wanted it that way, Steve didn’t know, though that didn’t change the fact that it had been the longest time and the littlest Tony had been in all the time they’d been age playing.

On the first day, Tony had been extremely fussy. He had gotten a mild fever once again and his throat had started to hurt more, for which Steve had had to be comforting him all day – as well as coaxing him into taking some medication. Yet, on the second and third day, Tony had felt better, and he had behaved pretty cutely, in Steve’s opinion. He had wanted to be carried all the time, he hadn’t hesitated to call him daddy, he hadn’t looked embarrassed when he was spoon-fed or changed, he had giggled when Steve tickled him, and he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable when Steve played with him.

Steve had loved it. And he had the feeling that Tony had too. Otherwise, how could anybody explain why Tony had looked so peaceful and relaxed once he went back to his adult mindset? He could have been upset, embarrassed, or regretful, but he never showed any of that. 

That had been exactly what Steve wanted for Tony. That had been exactly why Steve had wanted to give age play a try. It was supposed to be a way for Tony to relax, to forget about everything even if it was only for a short while, to leave aside all his responsibilities and concerns so that he was able to let go, to allow himself to be taken care of, to focus only on being loved. It was true that Tony had progressed a lot since the first time they age played, and he had been clearly getting more used to his role as a baby, but Steve had been afraid that Tony wasn’t really enjoying the experience, that he didn’t know how to slip into that headspace as Clint did. 

But now, Steve could ensure Tony did. And if Tony could already reach that state of mind, well, Steve figured it was alright to take things a little bit further. Maybe having a nursery would come in handy. Maybe the more realistic this was, the easier it would be for Tony to ease himself into his little headspace and stay like that a bit longer. 

Steve smiled satisfyingly once more before turning on his heels and walking towards the door, his mind already thinking about what the best way to take Tony to the room would be, without being too suspicious.

____________________

“You'd better be wearing clothes when I take off the bandana,” Tony warned as Steve pushed him down the hallway, "well, no, now that I think about it, I hope you're not."

Steve couldn't help chuckling. “I'm not naked,” he assured, opening the door of the nursery so Tony and he could step inside. 

“Party pooper,” Tony complained. “Seriously Cap, couldn't you wait until I finish? Everything that doesn't involve nudity can wait.”

“Yeah, because you never start another project before you finish the one you were working on first,” Steve remarked, not amused. It had taken him quite a while to realize that Tony’s ‘I’ll be there as soon as I finish with this’ promise was just another way to dodge Steve’s attempts to take him out of his workshop. 

“Well, I’m sorry for multitasking,” Tony apologized phonily. 

“You know that you don’t get more done when you multitask, don’t you?”

“You might not, but I assure you, I do,” Tony bragged and Steve had to bit his tongue to keep himself from reminding him about the time they had ran into a killer toaster in the kitchen. Tony’s inventions didn’t always turn out well, especially when they were the result of hours of sleep and food deprivation. “Are we there yet?” 

“There where?” Steve asked, positioning Tony in the middle of the room, right where he could have a look at everything there was there. 

“Well, wherever it was where you were taking me,” Tony said, voice a bit annoyed. “Seriously Steve, I’m busy, Pepper’s gonna be furious if those papers are not signed by tomorrow morning.” 

Steve squinted his eyes at Tony, then he remembered Tony couldn’t see him. “You weren’t signing anything when I went for you, you were working on your suit,” he accused. 

“And I need to finish that before I start signing the papers,” Tony explained, a cocky smile appearing on his face. 

Steve shook his head in disapproval, “no wonder why Pepper gets so angry with you sometimes. But don’t worry, we’re already here, you’d be able to go back to your workshop to continue stalling your duties,” he promised. Although, if everything turned out the way Steve wanted, Tony would stay there, having some quality time with his daddy. 

“Oh my God Steve, would you please tell me what’s this all about? I agreed to come here without telling me what for, but you’re taking forever,” Tony exclaimed, exasperated.

“Relax, I told you we’re already here,” Steve repeated.

“Here where? What for?”

“To show a gift I’ve got for you,” Steve informed, hands rubbing Tony’s upper arms affectionately in an attempt to cool him off. 

“A gift?” Tony questioned, voice surprised. 

“Yes.”

Tony grumbled, “couldn’t you take it to the workshop with you? Did you really have to make me come all the way here?”

“Well, it’s not something I could carry with me,” Steve explained.

“Why not? What is it?”

“You’ll see,” Steve said right before he raised his hands in order to uncover Tony’s eyes. 

It took Tony some seconds to recognize the room where they were in, and Tony blinked at him in confusion as if he still didn’t understand what they were doing there nor what gift Steve was talking about. Steve stepped aside so Tony had a clear sight of the room, and he couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy when Tony’s expression turned blank at the realization of the new acquisitions Steve had gotten for the playroom. Slowly, Tony got closer to the crib, and placed a hand on one of the sides as he took a careful look at all the room. 

Trying not to feel so nervous and impatient, Steve fidgeted a bit and slipped his hands in and out of his pockets, not really knowing where to put them. His eyes were fixed on Tony, looking for anything that could give him a hint of what was going on inside his mind, but Tony’s face continued inexpressive. After what seemed forever, Tony opened his mouth as if he was finally going to say something, but no words were uttered, so he closed it again. 

“So? Do you like it?” Steve questioned after Tony opened his mouth for a third time and failed to produce words once more. He tried not to sound too anxious, but he was afraid he couldn’t hide it well.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Tony blurted. 

“I beg your pardon?” Steve asked, taken aback. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Tony repeated, voice determined.

“What?”

“ _This_ ,” Tony clarified, spreading his arms out to his sides. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Steve questioned, eyebrows furrowed in complete confusion. 

“The whole age play thing, I don’t wanna do it anymore.”

“What? Why? Is this because of the nursery? Was it too much? We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, I can disassemble everything and return it,” Steve offered, not liking the way Tony shook his head.

“It wasn’t that,” Tony claimed, turning around and heading towards the door.

“But-”

“No buts,” Tony interrupted, turning his head around. He was scowling. “I just don’t like it anymore. You said we’d stop this whenever I wanted, whenever I wasn’t comfortable with this anymore. So, I want to stop this right now.”

“Yeah, I said that, but… but, it’s all so… so sudden,” Steve babbled, not knowing what to say. “Hey, wait, let’s talk about this,” Steve pleaded when he saw Tony opening the door. 

“I told you I’m busy, and you already made me lose a lot of time,” Tony said before leaving. 

“Wait, Tony!” But there was no answer. 

Steve stood there with his mouth half-open, his brain trying to comprehend what just had happened. 

What on earth had been that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know some people wanted to see Daddy!Steve looking after baby!sick!Tony, but I never planned on focusing on that, so, I apologize n_n'''
> 
> Anyway, if you saw a mistake, please let me know :)


	32. Chapter 32

“JARVIS, please don’t let anyone in,” Tony ordered as he entered his workshop, making sure the door was locked behind him. 

“Not even Captain Rogers, Sir?” JARVIS asked.

“ _No one_ ,” Tony clarified, maybe sounding a bit too brusque. 

“Noted, Sir,” JARVIS confirmed, a blatant tone of disapproval in his voice that Tony preferred to ignore. 

Peevishly, Tony walked up to the couch and flopped down onto it, curling into a little ball. Being rude to JARVIS always left a nasty taste in his mouth, and that was the last thing he needed right now. However, if he apologized, JARVIS might feel the right to advise him and Tony was not in the mood for that. He just didn't want to hear anybody, not when his mind was a total mess. 

A nursery. Steve had set up a nursery for him. That shouldn't have caught Tony by surprised, after all, Steve’s intention of what role he wanted Tony to play had always been clear. Turning their guest room into a playroom showed perfectly well that a nursery would eventually be the end result. Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting it somehow. It was never a matter of whether it was going to happen or not, but rather of _when_ it was going to happen. 

Unfortunately, the timing couldn’t have been worse. Had it occurred a few weeks earlier, Tony might not have felt this disgruntled. He might have allowed himself to appreciate the effort Steve had made, to picture how it would feel to be put to bed in that crib that looked nothing but comfortable, to wake up in a room that transmitted an inexplicable sense of security, to have a place that would certainly help to make the experience more real. 

But it hadn’t. It happened after _that_ event, the one Tony had been trying not to think too much about with very little success; the one that had made him rethink a lot of things; the one that had made him realize that, the more he waited to put an end to this situation, the more Steve would put up a fight, as he was evidently growing fonder and fonder of Tony’s little self. If Tony wanted to keep this whole age play situation from going further without repercussions, it had to be now. 

And Tony wanted that… didn’t he?

Truth to told, Tony didn’t know for sure. 

After that event, after those couple of days he had spent under the care of Phil, his head had been a wreck. Those days had been embarrassing, it would take Tony a lot of time to be able to face Phil without setting his cheeks on fire – though, for that to happen, Tony needed to stop avoiding him first. Nevertheless, excruciating wasn’t exactly the word Tony would use to describe the whole experience, but terrifying. Tony had been terrified. 

Up until that point, Tony had thought that that sensation of smallness he began experiencing every time Steve and he age played was what a Little headspace felt like, and even if feeling little was certainly a characteristic of the headspace, on that day, Tony learned it went way beyond that. He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with everything it entailed. 

First, there was the fact that Tony had slipped into that headspace unintentionally. Steve was usually the one who eased him into his Little mindset and Tony was okay with that, since he couldn’t really do it by himself. So, it had been quite a shock when he found himself going into that headspace without Steve being around, and even more shocking to realize that he couldn’t surface from it no matter how hard he tried. 

That had been unnerving. Tony had been aware of everything that had been happening; yet, he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. It had been like he was just a spectator, watching how someone else controlled his actions. And the fact that the one who had been controlling him was just another side of himself hadn’t helped that much. 

He had felt how his bladder had been practically crying out for release before losing control of it, however, standing up and going to the bathroom hadn’t seemed to be a priority until it had been too late. He had understood why Phil had refused to leave him alone – and he had been sure it would’ve been worse if Phil actually had – nonetheless, Tony had insisted on kicking him out and running away from him when given the opportunity. He had been able to see how clumsy his movements became and how there had been some things that had proved difficult for him to perform because of that; even so, he had rejected Phil’s help emphatically. 

Without a doubt, giving the circumstances, letting Phil look after him would have been the wisest thing to do, the adult thing to do. It was no secret to Phil that Steve and Tony were age playing – Steve had even gotten the idea from him and Clint – nor what role Tony played; therefore, Tony knew he had had no valid reason for acting the way he had. He had certainly not handled the situation like a grown-up should have. 

There was a little voice in his head that told Tony he shouldn’t be too harsh on himself for how he had acted. The blame for his behavior could be put on the fact that there had been no way for him to be in his right mind after how emotionally affected he had been. A lot of time had passed since the last time Tony had experience such strong negative emotions, so, it was perfectly understandable that he had reacted like that. 

Tony could accept that – dealing with feelings had never been his forte – but what he couldn't accept was the reason why he had felt so bad, why he had had the need to cry as pitifully as he had cried. That reason was what he had disliked the most of the whole experience. That reason had made him feel incredibly stupid and ashamed. That reason was what had made him feel terrified. And it didn’t matter how much Tony mulled over it, he just couldn’t accept it as a valid cause. 

Crying non-stop for almost a complete day just because Steve hadn’t been around sounded foolish from any perspective. 

It hadn't been the first time Steve's departure went unnoticed by Tony, the mission hadn't been a life-threatening one – not as far as Tony knew – and it was only going to Steve a day to go back home; yet, Tony hadn't been able to cease the crying. The scene of him sobbing hard as he called for his daddy while Phil tried to soothe him was utterly ridiculous. Phil shouldn’t have had to explain him that Steve couldn’t go back yet. Tony should have calmed down and waited patiently for him, without making the fuss he had made; but his brain had refused to listen to reasoning, and the only thing he had been able to focus was on the fact that his daddy wasn’t there. 

That didn’t mean Tony had gotten angry at Steve, not at all. Steve hadn’t done anything wrong. If he had known that Tony had slipped into his Little headspace, he would have done everything in his power to get out of the mission and go back to the Tower, though he hadn’t. 

The problem had been Tony. Specifically, Tony’s little self. If he hadn’t been able to calm down was because Steve’s absence had really affected him. He had missed Steve in a way his adult self had never. It had been nothing like what he felt when he woke up and found out that Steve was long gone; or when he hadn’t seen him for days because their responsibilities had kept them apart, or when he had to go to meetings on the other side of the world and Steve couldn’t come along; or when he found himself suddenly aroused, desperate for Steve’s touch, and he couldn’t find him anywhere around. No, what he felt during those moments didn’t compare to how wrecked he had felt that day, to how desperately his little side had needed Steve. 

And that was absolutely terrifying. Needing someone in such a way could cause many consequences Tony didn’t know he was prepared to deal with. 

What was Tony going to do when they broke up? (and Tony said ‘when’ because he wouldn’t dare to dream that they were going to stay together forever, his record of failed relationships deterred him from doing that) Drinking, burying himself in work, having meaningless sex, there were a lot of things that he could do in order to get through that breakup. But what about his little self? How was that part of him going to get over it? Would Tony have to hire someone to give him a bottle and change his diapers? The mere thought of that made him shudder. Besides, this was something he had agreed to do because Steve had requested it, Tony couldn’t even imagine age playing with someone else. 

No, Tony needed to put an end to this. That nursery had showed him Steve was willing to go further into a territory Tony didn’t want to risk stepping in. If he let this continue, going down into that headspace could stop being something he did at will; his little self could get more attached to Steve – and vice versa – and the separation would be worse. Tony couldn’t allow his reasoning be blinded by how good and fulfilling it was when he was Little and Steve was around. 

Steve had promised to stop this when Tony wasn’t comfortable anymore, and Tony was going to make him be true of his word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking too long to update. I was kind of busy during Christmas vacation (I really didn't get as many days off as I had planned) and I started the year with too much work. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed your holiday, and even if it sound like a cliché, Happy New Year :p
> 
>  
> 
> If you saw any mistakes, please let me know :)


	33. Chapter 33

“Where are you?” Phil asked as soon as Steve answered the phone, without even giving him the opportunity to say ‘hello’. 

“Eh… at home?” Steve informed, sounding confused. 

“Oh, thanks God!”

“What’s the matter?” Steve questioned with a frown on his face, straightening up a little as he turned down the TV volume. 

Phil sighed before proceeding with a concern tone of voice, “look, I didn’t want to bother you with this, but I don’t really have an option. Clint’s feeling Little and a bit upset. I’ve been talking to him and I managed to calm him down enough for him to take a nap, but I’m afraid he’s going to continue feeling Little when he wakes up and I’m going on a mission now, so he won’t be able to reach me.” 

“I see. Don’t worry, I’m more than happy to look after him,” Steve offered, already getting up from the couch. 

“Again, I’m so sorry to bother you. But you know how mischievous Clint can get when he’s not in the right mood and there’s not an adult around,” Phil apologized once more, though Steve didn’t think it was necessary. Besides the fact that Phil had just saved him from an afternoon of doing nothing – Steve had never really enjoyed being idle – it had been a long time since he’d gotten the chance to look after Little Clint–or any Little, for that matter–therefore, in Steve’s opinion, it was Phil the one who was doing him a favor and not the other way around. 

“I’m sure he hasn’t given up on the idea of having a pool in the living room,” Steve commented, earning a chuckle from Phil. Little Clint didn’t seem to understand that they already had a pool in the Tower, no matter how many times they had explained it to him. “But seriously Phil, you don’t have to worry, I’ll keep him out of trouble. See you when–”

“Just one more thing,” Phil interrupted before Steve could hang up, “I don’t want to sound like an ass for asking you this, but… please give him some space if he doesn’t want to be around you. You don’t really have to babysit him, just keep him out of trouble.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Steve asked, taken aback. What on earth had Phil meant by that? Why on earth wouldn’t Clint want to be around him? As far as Steve knew, Clint loved hanging out with him, especially when he was Little. Even if Steve didn’t hesitate to scold Clint when he was stepping out of line, he did let him get away with things that he normally wouldn’t when Phil was in charge, like eating more sweets, playing video games for more time or going to bed past his bedtime. That had earned him the title of ‘favorite uncle’, so what Phil said made no sense. Perhaps Steve had misheard. 

“That you should give him some space if he doesn’t want to be around you.” Okay, Steve had heard correctly. 

“Why wouldn’t he want to be with me?” 

There was a long pause before Phil answered, the kind of pause that told Steve Phil was trying to find the right words, “look, I get why you do it, okay? I know you’re having a hard time right now and you’re not doing it intentionally, but Clint doesn’t really like being babied, and he’s complained a few times because he says you do that a lot lately.”

“What?” Steve asked, still sounding a bit confused. 

“What I want to say is that Clint doesn’t need to wear diapers, he doesn’t even like wearing pull-ups, he doesn’t need you to feed him or carry him, and he doesn’t need to sleep in a crib. You and I know he behaves a bit younger than he is every now and then, but even during those occasions he doesn’t like to be treated like a baby,” Phil explained. 

Oh. 

“Jeez, you take me by surprise,” Steve expressed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I won’t deny I’ve done those things, but it’s not like I’ve forced him or anything, they just happened. And he’s never seemed to mind, to be honest,” he excused himself, and he truly thought so. 

Steve carried him only because Clint had fallen off the vents and had hurt his ankle slightly–Adult Clint’s threshold of pain was high, but Little Clint’s wasn’t. Steve fed him only because Clint had come up with the idea that food wars were the best thing ever and he had begun throwing any food he could get his hands on. Steve diapered him only because he hadn’t realized he had actually run out of pull-ups and going downstairs to retrieve more would have upset an already sleepy Clint. 

Certainly, Steve could argue every babyish thing he had done was caused by a valid reason, though he knew there were also some other things that hadn’t exactly happened because the circumstances so required. Lulling Clint to sleep on the rocking chair, giving him a sippy cup as if it was a bottle, and putting him down in the crib were definitely not necessary, and Steve was a little ashamed to recognize they were just the result of nostalgia. 

“Well, he kind of does. Again, I understand, I mean, _we_ understand why you’re doing it, and Clint feels sad because of how much you miss Tony, but I’m afraid he won’t want to hang out with you anymore if you keep babying him,” Phil stated. Steve remained quiet, not really knowing how to answer to that. It would be awful if Little Clint pushed him away too. “I gotta go, they’re waiting for me,” Phil announced, “Please, don’t take this the wrong way,” he asked, sounding truly contrite. 

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I totally get it, I won’t do anything that might bother him,” Steve promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I've been more than busy with work and I just couldn't get around to writing anything. Right now I just couldn't make myself work, and I needed a break, and here's the result. Sorry if it's too short. 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and I promise I'll try to update sooner.


	34. Chapter 34

“I want a glass,” Clint whined pitifully for the fifth time in less than five minutes, pushing away the sippy cup Steve had placed in front of him just a few seconds ago. 

Steve’s eyes narrowed, “that’s your favorite one, I bought it because you liked it,” he reminded him, and he wasn’t lying. Clint had seen the purple sippy cup advertised online and had found the dancing penguin stamp on it amusing. According to him, the sippy cups he owned were either too dull–Phil’s taste–or too babyish–Steve’s taste–so he had convinced Steve to buy it, as well as some toys he had liked as well. 

“Not anymore,” Clint announced, pouting when Steve moved the sippy cup closer to him once more. “I want a glass,” he repeated, and he slouched in his chair. If Steve wasn’t going to allow Clint to keep the sippy cup away from him, then he was going to keep himself away from it.

“No, you’re going to spill the water.” Steve refused, his mouth twitching. Nothing never turned out well when Little Clint demanded to do big-boy things, and Steve had learned that almost as soon as he had begun babysitting him. “Just finish your meal so we can go and play.”

“Noooo.” 

Steve massaged his temple as an attempt to ease the headache he could feel coming. Clint had been doing that all afternoon, and Steve was afraid it was all his fault. Had he known promising no babyish stuff would be misinterpreted as no childish stuff in general, Steve would have never said such thing. But Clint had been reluctant to come along just as Phil had warned him, and Steve had had no other choice. 

Because of that, Steve saw himself forced to allow Clint to wear normal jeans and not the elastic-waist ones he usually wore whenever he was Little; he had had no choice but to let Clint watch an action movie which any parent would never let a toddler watch; he had had to serve snacks before lunch, and not after; and he hadn’t been able to talk Clint into eating something more nutritious than the Chinese food he had had demanded. The only thing Steve hadn’t consented was to grant him permission to stay without a pull-up, and even if Clint had disagreed very loudly, Steve preferred to deal with a pout than with an accident. 

It was very likely that Clint was somehow taking advantage of the situation, and even if Steve knew he should do something about it, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides the fact that Steve didn’t want to risk driving Clint away, after his conversation with Phil earlier that day, he felt a bit guilty for not even realizing how he had been making Clint uncomfortable. And the worse part was that Steve would have never become aware of the way he was treating Clint if Phil hadn’t pointed it out.

Did Steve miss Tony that much? Well, apparently, he did. He wasn’t handling this situation as well as he had thought. They hadn’t broken up or anything of the sort, their romantic relationship was pretty much stable as far as Steve concerned. Their daddy-baby relationship, on the other hand, had been practically non-existent. The decision Tony had made had been decisive, and ever since that day, Steve hadn’t had the chance to hang out with his baby. 

Of course, Steve wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing. It was true that he had promised to stop if so requested by Tony, and he had every intention of staying true to his word; but that was proving to be difficult due to the fact that Tony hadn’t giving him any reason or justification whatsoever.   
Had Tony made that decision because of something Steve had done? Something Tony had disliked? If that was the case, Steve wanted to know what it had been, maybe they could set some other rules and boundaries and work this whole situation out. Steve was aware of the fact that he sometimes made Tony do things they hadn’t exactly agreed to, though the only reason he did that was because of Tony’s lack of courage to go and get the things he desired but thought he didn’t deserve or shouldn’t have. Not for nothing had Steve been the one who took the first step in their relationship, and not the other way around as everybody seemed to think. Steve had had a hard time getting through Tony’s head that he was much more than good enough for Captain America. 

Or, had that particular characteristic of Tony had something to do with his sudden decision? Perhaps it had. Maybe all the attention and love Steve tried to give Tony every time they age played had sparked off that habit of his of rejecting everything that was good for him. Instead of soaking all that affection like a sponge – as he definitely should – Tony might be running away from it. That certainly sounded like something he would do. 

Unfortunately, to that day, Steve was still clueless about that much-needed reason. Whenever Steve had brought up the topic, Tony had literally shut him out. His level of anger began to increase every time Steve ignored his petition of not discussing that topic anymore, until one day he got so mad he stopped talking to him for a whole month. Steve might have wanted to have Little Tony back, but that didn’t mean he was willing to lose Adult Tony, so he eventually had to let it go. 

“If you spill the juice, I’m not cleaning it up,” Steve warned, already having given up. Little Clint was very stubborn, and if Steve didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, he might as well let him drink from a glass. 

“I won’t,” Clint promised, his mouth curving into a triumphant smile. 

Steve let out a harsh breath while he grabbed the sippy cup and got up to head towards the kitchen island. He opened the doors of a cabinet, took a plastic glass from there, unscrewed the lid of the sippy cup and poured the juice into the glass. “Be careful,” he asked again as he placed the glass in front of Clint. 

“I won’t!” Clint repeated cheerfully, reaching for the glass in such a hasty way that it swung hazardously for a few seconds before Clint could steady it. Steve squinted his eyes at him at the same time he crossed his arms over his chest, but he his exasperation faded considerably when Clint gave him a puppy-dog look. 

But of course, Clint ended up knocking over the glass of juice. 

To Clint’s credit, it had really been an accident. After his demand had been heard, he stopped fussing and got back to eating, telling Steve all about a new video game that was going to be released–and that he obviously wanted either Phil or Steve to buy it for him–even if Steve asked him a few times not to talk with food in his mouth. The problem had been that Little Clint tended to use a lot of hand gestures when talking, especially if he was excited about the topic at issue, so when he explained Steve about how some characters from the video game burst, he extended his arms all of a sudden without paying attention to what he had close to him. 

“You see, I told you that you were going to spill it,” Steve said, maybe a bit harsher than he had intended, because even if Clint looked upset when he realized the spilled water had reached his lap, his eyes welled up until Steve uttered that scolding. 

“I…I’m… so-sorry,” Clint sobbed pitifully, struggling to hold back his tears. 

Steve felt awful. Little Clint might be mischievous, but he had never handled been scolded very well. Hurrying to his side, Steve lifted him off the chair without hesitation and placed him on his lap once he had sat on a chair that wasn’t wet. Clint wriggled a little, but an arm around his waist was enough to keep him in place. “It’s okay kiddo, it was an accident,” he soothed.

Clint shook his head as he whipped the tears with the back of his hands, but more kept coming. “You’re mad,” he said after a few minutes. 

“No, I’m not,” Steve assured, bringing Clint closer to his chest. “But it’d be nice if you listened to me when I warned you about something.” 

It turned out Clint had been more temperamental than Phil had told him. When Steve asked him if he wanted to go and watch TV, Clint just shook his head, and he continued doing that at every suggestion Steve gave. For the next thirty minutes, they stayed right there where they were, until Steve decided it wasn’t such a good idea to keep the toddler with damp clothes. After a quick trip to the nursery, Steve settled on the living room couch when Clint willingly sat on his lap once more. 

That was where Tony found them a couple of hours later, and it stung Steve that he didn’t react at the scene in front of him. No anger, no jealousy, no confusion, no longing, Steve could literally not detect any sort of emotion on his face or movements. Tony just greeted him, asked what Clint was doing there, nodded in understanding when Steve explained him what had happened, and made a beeline to their bedroom. That had been it. That was the attitude Tony had adopted lately, as if age play was the most normal thing in the world but it had nothing to do with him, as if it had never had to do anything with him. 

On second thought, Steve preferred it when Tony got mad at him, that way he could still believe this wasn’t a lost cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would turn out well, I promise. I just don't want to rush things. 
> 
> I'll try to update sooner than I have. 
> 
> If you spot any mistakes, please let me know :D


	35. Chapter 35

Leaving behind everything related to Age Play turned out to be more difficult than expected. Tony had thought that once he had made up his mind, things would gradually get back to normal, and the only thing he would have to deal with would be Steve’s reluctance to stop. Everything had been Steve’s idea after all, and even if Tony had come to like it, age playing wasn’t something indispensable for him. He didn’t need to be fed, bathed, comforted, put to bed or looked after, and he certainly didn’t need to wear diapers, suck on a pacifier, drink from a bottle or hug a stuffed animal. 

Never had Tony imagined that, even if Steve had tried to talk him out if it on the following days, the one who would resist the idea the most wouldn’t be him, but Tony himself. 

Finding himself constantly craving for those things he claimed not to need was beyond shocking, and Tony didn’t know what to think about that. Whenever he was too stressed, he had a bad day or he was a bit under the weather, the only thing he wanted to do was going to look for Daddy and let him make it all better the way only he knew how. The feeling that nothing wrong could happen while being in daddy’s arms was the thing that Tony missed the most, and even though Steve hadn’t broken the habit of hugging him every chance he had, it just wasn’t the same sensation.

Shamefully, Tony couldn’t succumb to that desire no mattered how badly he wanted to; the reason why he’d decided to put an end to all that role-play thing was a valid one, and he was not willing to go back on it. If he could ignore vital things like hunger and exhaustion, ignoring that part of him who wanted to be Little should be a piece of cake. And it kind of was for some time, at least until Tony saw Steve babysitting Clint. That day everything began going downhill. 

It wasn’t like Tony didn’t know that. He knew Steve continued looking after Little Clint every now and then; he did it way before they started age playing themselves, so, why would he stop? Besides the fact that Steve was the kind of person who liked helping others whenever and however he could, he’d never denied his taste for Age Play. If Tony wasn’t willing to let Steve babied him anymore, Steve wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to hang out with someone who still enjoyed and needed that kind of attention. 

Tony didn’t mind, or that was what he thought at the beginning. Watching Steve interact with Clint that way not only brought back the jealousy he felt for the archer’s Little counterpart, but also made him forfeit the progress achieved so far. His craving for age playing became stronger and more difficult to ignore, and without even realizing it, Tony found himself doing things he shouldn’t have. 

Sucking his thumb became a way to soothe himself whenever stress started to be too much, JARVIS had to call his attention once because Tony was about to put a greasy finger in his mouth. Hugging his dinosaur stuffie helped him to fall asleep more easily on those nights when he’d decided to go to bed and Steve was away on a mission. Hanging out in the nursery for a while reduced his anxiety, especially if he got JARVIS to play in the background one of the recordings there were of the times Steve had read him to bed. 

Yes, those little things certainly helped, but they made everything worse at the same time, too. First of all, how could Tony expect to leave everything related to Age Play behind if he continued allowing himself to do such childish things? And second, however comforting all that was, it always left a nasty taste in Tony’s mouth, because doing something infantile only made daddy’s absence more obvious. 

How had Tony gotten into this vicious circle and how was he supposed to break through it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, besides the fact that I've been busy and my mind has been a total mess over the last weeks, I experienced some sort of writer's block with this story in particular. I guess you'll be able to tell just by seeing how short this chapter was. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, they truly make my day. I promise I'll try to update sooner this time. 
> 
> And please, if you saw any mistake, let me know.


	36. Chapter 36

Tony snapped awake, sitting up abruptly while gasping desperately for air, the sensation of choking on water still too present, almost tangible. One hand clutched the sheets tightly as the other reached his neck, clasping it, needing to verify there was nothing surrounding it, wanting to make sure no one would dunk his head in a barrel full of water all of a sudden, demanding his lungs to take in as much oxygen as possible just in case that happened again, anxiety increasing when his lungs refused to cooperate, as if they had forgotten how to function correctly. 

A nightmare. Of course there had to be a nightmare. Of course the only way to finish a crappy day was by having a nightmare. Of course he had to have a nightmare on that particular day, where he was feeling awfully and involuntarily Little. Of course he was 'lucky' that way. 

After what seemed forever, his brain began registering his surroundings, realizing he was in fact not back in any cave and there was nobody trying to drown him. His breathing went back to normal little by little, and, with his heart still beating faster than normal, he flopped back down to the bed, grimacing when he felt the cold and sweat-dampened sheets under him. 

“Sir, are you–”

“Shut. Up.” Tony demanded straightaway, interrupting JARVIS. 

“Sir, but–”

“I. Said. Shut. Up,” Tony repeated, maybe a bit too roughly, but, dammit! JARVIS deserved it, because if it hadn’t been for him, if he hadn’t been nagging him ceaselessly until Tony had no other option but to call it for the night, he wouldn’t have gone to bed and he wouldn’t have had that stupid bad dream. Chances were that he would’ve ended up having a serious accident if he’d stayed in the workshop, though right now that scenario certainly seemed much more appealing than his current one. 

With a groan that sounded way more miserable than Tony had intended, he rolled over to the other side of the bed, where the sheets weren’t such a tangled and soaked mess, and he regretted right away. That side was impregnated with Steve’s scent – a combination of soap, cologne that could only be describe as old-fashioned, and the chalk Steve insisted on using to draw even if Tony had provided him with the best and finest graphic tablets – and when it hit his nostrils, his chest went uncomfortably tight. 

Not many hours ago, Tony had been relieved Steve was miles away from home on a mission, fighting back the urge to be Little was exceptionally tough if the man was around, as Tony just wanted to throw himself into Steve’s arms every time they ran into each other, to hell with his decision of putting a stop to all this. If he had allowed JARVIS to talk him into going to bed, it had been only because of Steve’s absence; otherwise, Tony would have stayed right where he had been and ignored that recent and annoying habit of his A.I. of telling him what to do whenever he realized Tony wasn’t in the correct mindset. Sleeping in the same bed with Steve when feeling Little was a resounding no, what if he sucked his thumb in his sleep? Or called Steve ‘daddy’ while still being drowsy? Or Steve’s presence sent him deeper into his Little headspace and Tony did something dreadfully embarrassing like forgetting he wasn’t wearing a diaper and wet the bed? Steve would be all over him again and Tony didn’t know if he could deal with that and emerge victorious once more. 

But now, Tony would give anything to have Steve right there beside him, because that stupid nightmare had unsettled him more than it should have, more than he was willing to admit. Once his anger towards JARVIS decreased a bit, Tony realized his heart continued pounding like a jackhammer, he’d broken out in a sweat yet again, and he could literally feel the fear creeping under his skin, because as illogical and implausible it was, he couldn’t help thinking someone would slam open the door at any moment and drag him out of bed and into a place he couldn’t nor didn’t want to imagine. 

Steve’s presence always kept those irrational thoughts at bay. Daddy’s presence always kept bad guys at bay. Daddy’s arms around him could protect him from anything. Daddy would never let anything bad happen to him. The problem was, daddy was nowhere around. 

His breath hitched on a sob, and Tony reached for daddy’s pillow, pressed his face into it and curled into a little ball before he began crying freely, JARVIS’ reassurances going almost unnoticed.

\- - - - -

Steve though about taking down the nursery, perhaps not completely, but there certainly were some stuff and furniture that he could give away, that maybe other people could put to better use. Because that was the problem, the nursery wasn’t being used, and besides the fact that Steve disliked wasting things, he believed there was no point in having a room specifically designed and furnished for age playing if the person to whom it was originally intended for didn’t want to have anything to do with it – and showed no intentions of changing his mind – and the other sporadic visitant avoided it at all costs – something that Steve couldn’t complain about, since Clint’s apparent aversion to it was caused by him.

Thus, in one of those rare afternoons where he had nothing to do and no one to hang out with, Steve went to the nursery with the intention of cleaning and tidying up, as well as deciding what things to keep and what things to get rid of. 

Steve couldn’t make up his mind.

Even if he could have easily disposed of the crib, the high chair, and plenty of toys and books that Clint didn’t use because they were meant for babies and he wasn’t one, Steve just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Tony had never gotten around to make use of many of those things, but they were his anyway, and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that getting rid of that stuff was as if he were saying goodbye to his baby. He’d accepted and respected Tony’s decision, though he wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept there was a high possibility he wouldn’t have the opportunity to interact with his baby anymore. 

Keeping everything the way it was also showed that Steve would always be there waiting patiently, that Tony could give Age Play a second chance if he wanted to. If anything was given away, Tony could think he didn’t have that choice anymore. 

So, instead of making any changes to the nursery, Steve kept it intact, and he began spending more time there to assuage his remorse of owning a room that was going to waste. It was true that the nursery made him feel very nostalgic, but it also brought a sense of peace and calm he couldn’t describe. Whenever he was stressed out or in a bad mood – which lately seemed to happen pretty often – he would take one of his sketchbooks, go inside that room, settle in the reading corner and start drawing in order to ease his mind, imagining he was just there to kill time while Tony napped in his crib. Some other times he only hung out there, or tidied the room up, or even spent the night there sporadically, when Tony was going to be away.  
There was a part of him, his naïve side, that made him believe the more time he spent time in the nursery, the highest the possibility there would be that, one day, Tony would have no other choice but to go inside, looking for him, and that somehow the room would cause him the same feeling of longing and harmony it caused to Steve, provoking him rethink things. And maybe, just maybe, Tony would change his mind. 

\- - - - -

Tony had been drunk the first time he had slept there, otherwise, there had been no way he would have climbed into the crib in his right mind. 

To be honest, Tony didn't quite remember what his train of thought had been in that moment. That afternoon he'd been feeling Little, which had led him to drink in spite of JARVIS's disapproval, but those urges were starting to get very annoying and Tony had just wanted a break from them. After he was kicked out of his workshop – seriously, that learning system he provided to practically all his creations always came back to bite him in the ass – the elevator took him to his penthouse, where he had to struggle a lot to make it to the hallway without falling down or stumbling on something. Somebody must have relocated the rooms, because the door Tony could have sworn led to his bedroom ended up leading him to the nursery; and instead of turning around and leave as he remembered deciding, he found himself going deep into the room, trying to put the side of the crib down, and when he failed, he clambered into it – something that took more effort and time than it should have. 

The following morning, his mind was a total mess. In the first minutes after Tony woke up, before he was fully conscious, he curled into a small ball and allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of complete safety and comfort that surrounded him. Unfortunately, only a few minutes later, an awful headache started pulsing at his temples – because, okay, he’d had way too much alcohol and his body wasn’t as resilient to the substance as it had been twenty years ago – and all that feeling of peace vanished in a flash, his heart skipping a beat when he got a glimpse of the bars around him. 

On the verge of a panic attack, Tony did his best to climb out of the crib, but the headache and the lightheaded he got for having stood up very fast caused him to lose his balance, and he ended up hitting the ground with a thud – and no, in that moment, Tony definitely did _not_ think he wouldn’t have fallen if daddy had been there to lift him out of the crib as daddies were supposed to do, because Tony didn’t want Steve there, absolutely not – and JARVIS had to reassure him several times that he himself had been the one who had gotten there, that nobody had taken him, and that no one had entered the room while he’d been sleeping there. 

Things got even worse after that day, at least from Tony’s perspective. Besides constantly finding himself wanting to suck his thumb, hug a stuffed animal or run to Steve’s – daddy’s – arms; now, every time he knew Steve was going to be away for at least a day, Tony felt very tempted to go to the nursery and nap in the crib. He knew he shouldn’t, if he was ever going to leave all that stupid Age Play thing behind he couldn’t continue allowing himself to succumb to those urges anymore. 

Unfortunately, this particular craving turned out to be more difficult than the others. 

Tony found himself one night, tossing and turning unable to fall sleep, his mind stubbornly reminding him of the crib that was just a few meters away from his room, telling him how easy it would be for him to get up and walk over the nursery, assuring him nobody would catch him as Steve, as well as Clint and Phil, were going to be on a mission for the next couple of days. “Ah! This is stupid!” he grunted against the pillow, minutes before kicking off the sheets, getting out of bed, and heading to the nursery. 

“Look! It’s just like a bed,” Tony said to his brain, which would have been a bit odd if it hadn’t been for the fact that he considered his brain an entity apart from him, due to how much they seemed to differ in everything sometimes, “it has a bed frame, a box spring and a mattress, just like beds do, there’s no difference with this bed and the one there’s in the bedroom, so there’s no reason why you can’t sleep in the other one,” he explained, frustration in his voice, because there was no way he was going to make his brain believe something he was well aware it was a lie. 

The bed and the crib might be parallel in some ways, though the most evident dissimilarity was the thing that was causing all this turmoil inside Tony’s head. The sides surrounding the crib, instead of triggering some sort of claustrophobia or feeling of confinement as logic dictated, caused an unusual sense of protection and coziness that Tony couldn’t understand. Somehow, his mind had linked that unique characteristic of the crib to the fact that that night, where he ended up there accidentally, Tony had slept better than he had in a long time; he had woken up well-rested, calm – or as calm as it had been possible taking into account the hangover and the initial consternation, which were inevitable giving the circumstances – and, best of all, without having experienced nightmares. 

“Oh, this is bullshit and I’m going to prove it to you,” Tony said to his brain once more, climbing into the crib peevishly. 

It must have been a fluke, another way life found to mess up with his head, because it seemed illogical to think a crib could keep the nightmares away when nothing and nobody else had, not even Steve’s presence had managed to do that, at least not entirely. Chances were that Tony wouldn’t have dreamed that night regardless of where he had slept, perhaps the alcohol had prevented his brain to create bad dreams, or maybe he’d slept too deeply to be able to dream at all. Everything had been a random and unlucky turn of events, a cruel joke of destiny, and Tony was going to prove that to himself. He was going to sleep in the freaking crib once more, he was _not_ going to have a good night’s sleep this time, and he was going to show his brain that way that all this was pure nonsense. 

Tony should have known by now that the more ridiculous the situation was, the higher the chances there were for him to be wrong. 

The next day, Tony woke up after having slept better, for a second time, in a long time. 

\- - - - -

At first, Steve thought it was all in his head, a product of his imagination, after all, Clint did enter the nursery even if it was only to drag the chest of his favorite toys out of the room, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in there. He could perfectly be the one who was leaving things misplaced, he had never been an organized person, and it was always hard to get him to clean up after playing. Steve had had to take him back into the nursery several times in order to make sure he put everything away properly, since Clint tended to throw things and run out in his haste to move on to the next activity, whatever it was. 

So, if Steve stumbled on a toy when he went into the nursery, or if he saw a book out of its shelf, or a stuffed animal abandoned under some furniture, well, it shouldn’t have been such a big deal; although some of those misplaced objects weren’t the ones the toddler usually played with, he could easily be the one to blame for that. Steve would just pick it up, put it away, and forget about it. 

It wasn’t until certain piece of furniture started to show slight discrepancies that Steve’s suspicions aroused, because the crib was something Clint avoided like the plague and, therefore, he couldn’t be the one who was moving things around. 

Even though Raawry never left the crib – something Steve made sure of, as Tony’s little side had been especially fond of it – Steve couldn’t help noting the soft toy was positioned differently every time he entered the nursery; and unless it had been possessed by some spirit like it happened in those movies Clint had made him watch during movie nights, the only explanation there was for that was someone must have been moving it. It wasn’t like Steve found Raawry on one corner of the crib one day, and on the opposite the next day, it was more like it was a half-inch to the right or to the left where it had previously been, or its face was slightly pointed to a different direction, or it was leaning more on the pillow than before, as if somebody had tried to place it exactly like it had been but failed. 

Then, there was the matter of the blanket. Every time Steve went back to the nursery, he found creases and wrinkles on it, regardless of the fact that he always straightened it out before leaving – a habit he’d picked up when he was in the army. Or the matter of how the crib bumper pads seemed a bit looser and dented, as if someone had stepped on them or kicked them from inside. 

Those things were something that should have been of little importance too, and Steve was certain he wouldn’t even have noticed them if he hadn’t started spending so much time in that room. But without being able to help it, he found himself constantly wondering how those things were happening, and after giving it a lot of thought, the only assumption his mind could come to was that somebody was sleeping there. Somebody who smelled just like Tony, because when Steve removed the blanket and pulled the sheets to smell them, Tony’s unmistakable scent was all over them – who else could make motor oil smell so appealing? 

How could the sheets smell like Tony, if Tony had never come to sleep in the crib?

“JARVIS, is Tony coming to this room without letting me know?” Steve asked, hands still holding the dinosaur printed sheet, face looking up. 

“Sir has access to everything and everywhere in this tower, there’s no need for him to inform you, Captain, where he goes or doesn’t go,” JARVIS informed, clearly dodging his question. 

“That’s not what I meant, JARVIS, and you know it,” Steve argued. Even though JARVIS had told on Tony a few times before, it didn’t mean the A.I. did it all the time. There was certain information Tony forbade to share no matter what, and Steve was afraid this fell into that category. “Has Tony been sleeping in this room? In the crib?”

“I’m not allowed to provide that information to you,” the A.I. said, and Steve swore he could hear a hint of discontentment in its voice. “But if you let me give you an advice, Captain, you should talk to Sir. Lately, he seems to be stressing out about something that shouldn’t be that difficult to fix.” 

Steve sighed heavily before smiling in a way that was everything but happy, “we still suck at communicating, don’t we, JARVIS?”

“I’m afraid you never stopped, Captain.” Steve had to chuckle at that. 

With the intention of following JARVIS’s advice, Steve put down the sheets and left the nursery, and he would have gone to Tony’s workshop and talked to him to settle this issue once and for all if the alarm to assemble hadn’t gone off at that very moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this is taking me forever to update, but I've been busy, and I guess not such in the mood, and experiencing writer's block and so many other things that, well, I guess at the end they don't really matter. 
> 
> I hope you had enjoyed it, sorry for making you wait this long, though I won't promise I'll update soon, because, well, it might happen, it might not. I promise I'll try my best to write the next chapter asap. 
> 
> Thanks for your comments and kudos! 
> 
> And please, as usual, if you saw a typo or some incoherent sentence, please, let me know.


	37. Chapter 37

Captain America might be a nearly perfect human being, with peak human strength, speed, reflexes, among other skills; but that didn’t make him invincible, and Tony sometimes seemed to forget that. The reminders were always dreadful. There was just something terribly wrong with the picture of an injured and unconscious Steve, and Tony was afraid that image would be printed in his brain for a long time. 

“He’s okay,” Natasha reassured, tenderness uncharacteristically tinging her voice, “even if he broke all of his bones, I’m pretty sure he’ll be good as new in a couple of days.” Tony stopped pacing to look at her, eyes wide open in horror. “You know what I mean.”

Tony did. It would definitely take much more to finish Steve off for good. Getting smashed the way he had been was probably the equivalent of a normal person breaking a leg or an arm: serious but nothing to panic about. If Tony was pacing a hole in the floor, worried and full of guilt, it wasn’t only because Steve had gotten hurt, but also because it had been his fault. 

Had Tony not been so distracted, Steve wouldn’t have had to shove him out of the way and receive the attack that had been meant for him, a strike a fully-focused Tony could have dodged easily.

Of course, Tony wouldn’t have been that absent-minded during the battle if Steve hadn’t told him they needed to talk right before taking off and heading for Central Park. Who in his right mind would say such a thing minutes before having to fight with a freaking oversized lizard? Tony couldn’t help paying more attention to the little voice inside his head, which was trying to figure out what on earth Steve had meant by that, than to Steve’s orders. 

Nonetheless, Tony would never say it’d been Steve’s fault, or that they both shared the blame, because the one who was stuck in medical right now was Steve and not him. 

“You should go see him,” Natasha advised, “he must be wondering where you are.”

“I–,” Tony trailed off, failing to find a valid excuse to justify why he was still there, why he hadn’t run off with Phil and Clint when the former got informed Steve was allowed to receive visitors. There was no way Tony was going to tell her he was afraid of seeing him. What if what Steve wanted to talk about was bad news, and this incident just worsened everything?

“You know it wasn’t your fault, don’t you?” Natasha asked, her face crinkling in annoyance. So much for being comforting only a few minutes ago. “These things tend to happen, it comes with the job.”

“It’s not that,” Tony half-lied.

“Then go and see your boyfriend already, don’t make me drag you to his room,” Natasha warned. There wasn’t the slightest doubt that she’d fulfill that threat, so Tony turned around and walked down the hall. Entering Steve’s room on his own account would be definitely better than being shoved inside. He even stepped up the pace when he heard her groan behind him. 

With hesitant movements, Tony placed a hand on the door knob and twisted it open very slowly, still a bit reluctant to go inside. As expected, Steve was sitting on the bed, and Tony felt his heart beating with a mixture of apprehension and indignation, experiencing a sudden worsening in mood. It would have been a normal reaction – seeing Steve’s heavily bandaged upper body, scratched face and arm immobilized in a splint could certainly throw anyone who knew him off balance – but that hadn’t been what had upset Tony. 

Phil and Clint were still there, Clint perched on Steve’s lap, face hidden in the crook of Steve’s neck and arms around his waist. By Steve’s expression – a smile filled with warmth that crinkled the skin around his eyes – Tony could tell the archer was Little, and he didn’t like that in the slightest. 

Before his brain had time to register what he was doing, Tony rushed to the bed and pushed Clint off Steve’s lap, sending him to the floor. Phil hurried to his side and helped him sit up. 

“Anthony!” Steve yelled, startling Tony. "What did you do that for?” he asked with a reprimanding tone of voice. Tony felt a clutch of panic in the pit of his stomach. 

“I–,” Tony trailed off, not knowing what to say. Squirming a bit, he looked back and forth between Steve’s and Phil’s scowls and Clint’s hurt expression, and when tears began welling into his eyes, panic spread though Tony’s body. 

Without thinking it twice, Tony turned around and fled from the room, ignoring Steve’s requests to wait. His hands reached for the phone in his pocket and clumsy fingers tapped on the screen, he needed his armor to be ready to take off as soon as he exited SHIELD headquarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, I'm sorry. I promise next one will be longer. 
> 
> If you spotted any mistakes, please, let me know :)


	38. Chapter 38

The flight back to the tower was a blur; if JARVIS hadn’t activated the autopilot mode, Tony would have probably crashed into a building or something. By the time his brain started to register what was happening, Tony had already landed on the rooftop and was hurrying inside the tower while his robots struggle to remove the suit. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Tony couldn’t find another word to describe himself right now. Steve was bedridden and wounded because of him, and the only thing Tony could think of doing was to make a scene like the one he’d done. What the hell was wrong with him? He should’ve apologized to Steve, he should’ve asked how Steve was, he should’ve found out what Steve’s injures were, he should’ve done something to make Steve feel better, but he didn’t. Instead, Tony went and hurt Steve even more, because shoving off Clint of Steve’s lap the way he had when they were hugging must have put some pressure over Steve’s wounds. 

But Tony hadn’t been able to help it. 

Seeing Clint on Steve’s lap had been too much. Besides the fact that Steve hadn’t seemed to notice Tony’s presence because of that until the incident happened, having to soothe Clint was something Tony found terribly outrageous. Steve was the one who had gotten injured, why did he have to be comforting Clint? If anything, Steve should’ve been the one who needed reassuring. Yes, Clint had clearly been Little, and considering how attached his Little self was to Steve, it’d been perfectly normal for him to get that overwhelmed. With or without pain, Steve would never ignore a frantic team member, especially if the person in question was in such vulnerable mindset. None of them had done anything wrong. 

Except that, in Tony’s head, they had. 

Steve wasn’t Clint’s daddy. Clint had his own daddy, and his daddy was perfectly sound and safe. Why hadn’t Phil stepped up and dealt with his Little’s distress? That was his job as a daddy, wasn’t it? Why had Clint had to be usurping Tony’s place? If anyone had to be on Steve’s lap that should’ve been Tony, unquestionably, because Steve was _his_ daddy. After Tony apologized for what he’d caused, Steve should’ve realized how awful Tony felt, and he should’ve done something about it; after all, daddies were supposed to make their babies feel better. 

Unless Steve didn’t consider himself Tony’s daddy anymore. It had been that thought the one that had made Tony lose his temper, because it could be perfectly possible. And the worst part was Tony wouldn’t have the right to complain about it, since he himself had been the one who had drove Daddy away. 

Daddy wanted to be a daddy and he had never denied that, quite the opposite, actually. If Tony wasn’t willing to let Daddy take care of him, he couldn’t really blame Daddy if he looked for somebody else who did enjoy and did need his attention and care. Tony couldn’t blame Daddy if he wanted to replace him, and what better replacement than Clint? That outcome shouldn’t be shocking, not really, Tony should’ve foreseen things would turn out that way. Clint was much better at age playing than Tony, and even though Clint’s headspace was a bit older for Steve’s liking, they got along pretty well. 

All that made sense, and Tony understood it. However, understanding and accepting were two different things, and Tony couldn’t bear the idea of his Daddy looking after someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t want his Daddy to be anyone else’s daddy, regardless of the fact that Tony wasn’t willing to be his baby anymore. Or was he?

 _Stop fooling yourself_ , a little voice in his head said, and Tony knew exactly what it meant. Tony had never stopped wanting to be Steve’s baby. Logic and caution had told him to get away from that sort of relationship before it was too late, before everything went downhill, but some part of him wished to continue even though things turned out badly. Not for nothing it had been impossible for him to keep himself away from anything related to Age Play, to stopped missing Daddy even when he had Steve around. 

Tony’s poor choices had screwed everything up, and now the problem wasn’t whether Tony was going to give Age Play another chance or not, but rather if Steve would take him back. Chances were he wouldn’t. Why would he? Tony had shown him how unreliable he was, how volatile. Steve might even kick him out of the team as a precaution. As the Captain, he couldn’t afford to have a team member who couldn’t play well with others, and since Clint hadn’t done anything wrong, Tony was the one who needed to go. 

The mere thought of that happening was horrifying. If Daddy left, the Avengers would be the only thing that could keep him afloat. Tony didn’t know what he’d do if that happened, and knowing all that had occurred because of him made things even worse. 

All of a sudden, Tony’s chest tightened to the point where breathing was becoming almost impossible, something that turned to be fairly painful when the sobs caught in his throat began demanding to be let loose, and the attempts of his lungs to expand to get more air didn't yield results. Tears started welling up in his eyes, and the mixture of a blurry vision and chocking sensation made Tony dizzy. He needed to calm down and think things through. He wasn't going to allow himself to lose it over something like that. If those things ended up happening, Tony was going to man up, suck it up, and deal with the consequences in a dignified manner. 

Determined to get a hold of himself, Tony wiped the tears with the back of his hands and looked around in search of a chair, a sofa or any surface where he could sit down and try to control his breathing. That turned out to be not such a good idea after all, because that made him really pay attention to his surroundings for the first time since he had wandered into the tower, and he did not like in the slightest the place he was in. Of all the rooms there were in the tower, why did he have to end up in the nursery? Wasn’t he supposed to head for his workshop whenever his mind was on autopilot? 

His chest tightness worsened, more tears flooded his eyes and his legs became so wobbly that Tony had no other option than to plop down right there on the floor, finding himself with no strength to leave that room as he wanted to. Daddy had set up that nursery especially for him, and Tony’s heart sunk as he realized there was a high possibility he would never get to use it properly. 

Tony broke into tears and buried his face in his hands, determination all gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know I promised the next chapter to be longer (and it is, but not that much) but then it would be too long, and when I started this story I promised myself I would keep the chapters shorter so I didn't get too stressed or took a lot of time to update it. 
> 
> I'm sorry if it's going a bit too slow right now. 
> 
> I hope I can update sooner, at least for some time before I get too busy again. 
> 
> If you saw any mistakes, please let me know :)


	39. Chapter 39

Steve would never frown on Tony’s habit of sneaking out of a hospital before being discharged – or examined, for that matter – because he had been about to do exactly the same when Phil entered the room with the discharge documentation in hand. Good, a picture of Captain America jumping out of a window, bandaged and in a splint, would certainly make headlines and cause a big commotion. Steve had enough problems to deal with right now to have to do some damage control with the press on top of that. 

“You know, couples tend to start acting like each other after some time,” Phil commented, his eyes holding a disapproving look. Steve felt a flush prickled his skin, and he hurried to put in the leg he had already swung out of the window.

“You were taking forever,” Steve justified himself as he adjusted his clothes nervously. His worry might have altered his perception of time, though he decided to keep that information to himself. Phil bridged the distance between them and closed the window.

“No one wanted to give green-light to your departure.” Phil informed. Steve had already figured that had been the problem. Nobody in their right mind would allow someone who had suffered several concussions, had a dislocated elbow, two broken ribs as well as various cuts and scrapes all over his body leave only a few hours after being admitted. Steve reckoned Phil had had to scared the hell out of some people in order to be able to get him discharged, and Phil would probably have to deal with a furious Fury once he realized Steve had left before he was supposed to.

“I’m fine,” Steve assured, and it was almost true. He wasn’t going to deny he was in pain, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. It seemed that everybody tended to forget he had the super soldier serum in his system. His injures might be serious, but it would take him only two or three days to heal completely. Most of his wounds had already started forming scabs. 

Phil said nothing to that, but the grimace expressed his disbelief. “What happened?” he asked, walking to the bed where Clint had fallen asleep and leaning over to pressed a kiss to his forehead. Steve didn’t have to be a genius to know what he was talking about.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, and he was truly clueless. 

Over time, Steve had gotten to know Tony fairly well, to the point where he could assure he understood how Tony’s mind worked most of the time. Given how things had gone during the battle, there was no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would blame himself for what had happened to him; therefore, as soon as Steve regained consciousness, he began scheming how he’d make Tony realized it hadn’t been his fault. It wouldn’t be easy, and Steve could already imagine Tony’s reaction: he would probably refuse to believe him, feel remorseful anyway, hide from him and get mad at him if Steve insisted on contradicting him. Tony pushing Clint the way he had was something Steve would have never envisioned him doing. 

Although Tony was short-tempered sometimes – especially when he was under a lot of pressure, overtired or sleep-deprived – aggressiveness had never been an issue. Tony would make a snarky comment about the situation first, instead of behaving in such hostile way. Steve had no recollection whatsoever of a single time where Tony had lost it during the time they’d lived together, and that was saying something; having to deal with obnoxious reporters almost on a daily basis as well as living under the same roof with a bunch of people with such peculiar skills and personalities was anything but easy. Tony had kept it cool when the press had gone crazy criticizing their relationship, or when a few of Clint’s jokes had gone overboard. It seemed like Tony was unable to be ticked off. 

However, that description only applied to Tony when he was in his adult mindset. His baby side, on the other hand, had proven to have a looser grab on his emotions, impulses and behavior. Steve had seen Tony acting a bit unfriendly towards Clint a few times when being in his Little headspace, and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that what had happened today had been caused by another fit of jealousy of his baby. 

That thought made Steve feel awfully uneasy. Tony had claimed he wanted to have nothing to do with Age Play anymore and Steve had chosen to respect his decision after seeing how determined Tony was. But what if Tony wasn’t? What if Tony didn’t really want to quit age playing? What if Tony had been struggling with that and Steve hadn’t noticed because he’d stayed away in order to give him some space? What if Steve had been neglecting his baby?

“Natasha’s waiting for you outside, she’s flying you back home,” Phil informed after he settled into the chair that was next to the bed. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Steve asked, raising his chin to point at Clint.

“Yes, even if he’s still in his little headspace when he wakes up, I’m pretty sure he’ll snap out of it when he realizes he’s in a hospital,” Phil reassured as he waved Steve off.

\- - - -

The flight back home took an eternity, or at least that was what it felt like to Steve. The only reason why he hadn’t jumped off the Quinjet as soon as he spotted the tower had been Natasha’s refusal to open the loading hatch, something Steve would have considered a wise judgement if he hadn’t been that eager to arrive, to see Tony. Natasha just rolled her eyes at Steve when he stumbled for getting off the jet too quickly. 

With long and hasty strides, Steve walked into the tower and stepped into the elevator, and he couldn’t help feeling a bit perplexed when it started going up instead of down when he asked JARVIS to take him where Tony was. Why wasn’t he heading for the workshop? That was Tony’s favorite hideout, wasn’t it?

“Sir’s in the guestroom,” JARVIS informed as if the A.I. had read Steve’s mind. 

“Guestroom?” Steve echoed, eyebrows drawn together in a puzzled and confused frown. 

“I believe you also call it nursery, Captain.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat at that. He already suspected Tony hung out in the nursery when he wasn’t around, though the fact that Tony was there right now, after the incident at SHIELD hospital wing, was a proof that there was something amiss. 

“Is he okay, JARVIS?” Steve asked, not waiting for the elevator doors to be completely open to step out. 

“There’s nothing physically wrong with Sir, Captain. However, he seems to be experiencing a lot of distress,” JARVIS said. Steve stepped up the pace at that, his super soldier hearing already detecting the sound of tiny strangled sobs that became stronger the closer he got to the nursery. Tony was crying, and everything was wrong with that. Steve was hit by an overwhelming desire to comfort him, as a boyfriend or as a daddy, it really made no difference to him. 

Carefully, to avoid startling Tony, Steve pushed the door open and he felt his heart fill with sorrow at the sight in front of him. Tony was curled up into a small ball on the floor right in the middle of the room, face hidden and body shaking with every choked sob that he was clearly trying to hold back but managed to escape his lips anyway. He looked so fragile, so vulnerable, that it made Steve ached even more badly than he already was. 

Steve wasn’t going to deny there was a small part of him that was thrilled to find Tony in this particular room, but it was also true that he would’ve liked this to happen under very different circumstances. 

After hesitating for a moment, Steve bridged the distance between them with quiet light steps. He considered making his presence known first, but ended up deciding against it. What if Tony bolted as he had earlier? Besides the fact that Steve was in no condition to chase him all around the tower, he didn’t want to wait any longer to settle this. Tony needed to be consoled, and then, they needed to have a very serious conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hum. I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block again. It sucks, because I did have some time during the week to write. Anyway, I promise next chaper Steve and Tony will finally talk about what's been going on. 
> 
> If you spot any mistakes, please let me know :)


End file.
